


I'll Be Home for Christmas

by Gort



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: A Suprise Ex, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No SHIELD (Marvel), Background Relationships, But someone had to be the bad guy, Cake, Christmas, Don't worry she doesn't marry him, F/M, FitzSimmons - Freeform, Mentions of alcohol, Peppermint mochas, Philinda - Freeform, Principal May, Stakeout makeouts, Wedding Planning, mentions of skyeward - Freeform, phil and may are daisy's parents, sex against a door
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:07:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 22,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27827998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gort/pseuds/Gort
Summary: AU, No SHIELD. Daisy's getting married, but the whirlwind engagement is making her mother and best friends a little nervous. Enter Bobbi's ex, Hunter, recently back in town and a private investigator. Can he help Bobbi figure out what Ward's really up to and convince her to give him another chance?(Based on a holiday movie)Beta'd by sunalso!
Relationships: Lance Hunter/Bobbi Morse
Comments: 57
Kudos: 28
Collections: AoS Topsy-Turvy Hallmark Holidays





	1. Naughty or nice

“Mel?” Bobbi answered her phone, surprised.

Christmas music echoed through Elena’s café, just loud enough to hear over the buzz of morning customers, but it made it hard to carry on a conversation over the phone. Which was likely Elena’s intention. Bobbi smiled her thanks at the owner herself, who gave a wink, and picked up the coffee tray before heading toward the front door.

“Where are you?” Melinda May hissed like she was trying to keep from being overheard. “He showed up early.”

“I’m on my way, I promise.”

“You haven’t said anything to Daisy, have you?”

“Mel,” Bobbi sighed. “Why don’t you just tell her you’re worried?” When she’d first started working under her old high school English teacher turned principal, it’s been almost impossible to think of her as anything but Ms. May, but now she was one of Bobbi’s closest friends, along with her daughter, Daisy.

“I’m not worried! I trust Daisy, this is just…it’s awfully fast. We’ve met his parents exactly once.”

Bobbi tucked the phone between her ear and shoulder to navigate out the front doors of the café into the bright wintery sunlight. “Getting married six months after you met is pretty fast, I guess, but sometimes you just know.”

Old memories vied for her attention, but she carefully tucked them away before nostalgia got the better of her. She had too much on her plate. Daisy’s hectic wedding planning schedule didn’t allow for time to wallow in old hurts and she’d decided long ago things just weren’t meant to be, no matter how unscientific Jemma would say that sounded.

“How much could she possibly know about him? It took Phil ten years to convince me to marry him!”

Bobbi suppressed a laugh. “Daisy’s just a little more…free-spirited. It’s what makes her such a good second-grade teacher.”

“She’s a great teacher because she’s smart and creative, not because she makes impulsive choices like getting married a mere month after getting engaged. Something’s off.”

“What does Phil think?”

Melinda made an exasperated noise. “He’s Phil. He doesn’t want to believe anyone’s a bad guy unless they’re one of the characters in his books.”

“Has Grant done anything suspicious?” Bobbi said. “Like taking out multiple life insurance policies on his future wife, for instance?”

“Don’t you start,” Melinda growled. “I just…I swear he’s hiding something. He gets this look on his face like my kids at school when they’re trying to think of a good lie. Even his social media posts are innocuous. He kayaks! Who does that?”

“Kayakers?” Bobbi suggested, fumbling with her car keys. The coffee tray tilted precariously, and she almost dropped the phone to keep it upright before getting the car door open.

“You are being supremely unhelpful.”

“Mel,” Bobbi said, resting her arm on the open door. “Would it make you feel better if I promised to keep an eye on him?”

“Yes,” Melinda sighed. “I’m sorry to ask, but I think he’s afraid of me.”

“Imagine that,” Bobbi said, amused. She set the box on the seat and looked up just in time to catch a glimpse of a familiar profile. She blinked again, squinting against the glare of the café’s front windows. “It can’t be,” she muttered.

“Can’t be what?” Melinda asked.

“Nothing, I’ll be there shortly.”

“Good.”

“You should think about talking to Daisy.”

The sigh over the phone was long and gusty. “Fine. And Bobbi?”

“Yeah.”

“Thank you.”

Bobbi smiled and started the car. “Of course.”

“Now hurry up and get over here before he tries to talk to me about my retirement fund again.”

“On my way.” Bobbi hung up the phone and spent another few moments staring at the café, but the only person she recognized was Elena. She shook her head. It couldn’t have been Hunter she’d caught sight of. He hadn’t even shown his face at their tenth high school reunion, why would he suddenly pop up now?

Steering the car out of the parking lot, Bobbi rolled her eyes at herself. She was happy for Daisy, even if this stupid wedding was dredging up old feelings for a man she hadn’t laid eyes on in forever. The years she’d dated Hunter might be something to look back on fondly, but their relationship had been far from perfect. Being young and stupidly in love hadn’t been enough to keep everything from falling apart just as the rest of her life was coming together.

Eyes on the road, she pushed away all thoughts of her ex-boyfriend and concentrated on her newest wedding task: making sure Daisy’s fiancé was as good as he seemed to be. As a distraction, it was a great one, and Bobbi sent up silent thanks to Mel.

There was zero chance that straightlaced, stoic Grant would remind her even the littlest bit of one Lance Hunter.

#

“Bobbi!” Daisy threw her arms around her and Bobbi nearly dropped the coffee—again.

“Hey, Daisy,” Bobbi laughed, giving her a one-armed squeeze.

“Can you believe I’m getting married in a week?” Daisy’s smile was so bright it was practically blinding, and guilt bubbled up. God, Bobbi hoped Melinda was just having an attack of overprotective parenting, because if she found out something awful about Grant and had to break Daisy’s heart…

“Bobbi,” Melinda said, snapping her back to reality. “You made it.”

“And I brought the good stuff,” Bobbi said, lifting the coffee tray.

Daisy’s eyes lit up. “From Elena’s?”

“Of course,” Bobbi said, following Mel into the kitchen and unwinding her scarf. “Sorry, I don’t know what Grant drinks.”

“Oh, he’s happy with just about anything,” Daisy waved a hand. “Can you believe he was single?”

“Uh, no?” Bobbi said, hoping that was the right answer.

“Well, not anymore,” Daisy said smugly. “Anyway, we can make him a pot of coffee if he wants something.”

She snagged her drink as Mel lifted her eyebrows at Bobbi. If there was anything most of them took seriously, it was caffeine, a necessity for their early mornings and late-night grading sessions. Bobbi shrugged back at Mel. Not to have an opinion was practically blasphemous, but Daisy seemed fine with it. It was weird, but it certainly wasn’t cancel-the-wedding weird.

“This is perfect,” Daisy hummed. The doorbell rang and she perked up again, beelining toward the foyer. “I’ll get it!”

“Speaking of, where’s the groom?” Bobbi asked, taking off her coat. She leaned over the kitchen island and grabbed the cup marked with her name.

“In the living room, last I saw.” Melinda lowered her voice. “He and Phil were bonding about some dead author. I swear he does research before coming over. There’s no way they could have this much in common.”

“It’s not like they’re from different planets. Grant does what, investing? That’s got to leave him time to read.”

Melinda made a face. “It feels like he’s trying too hard.”

“He’s marrying your daughter. He’d better be trying hard.” The doorbell rang again, and Bobbi glanced toward the foyer. “I thought this was just a little planning session?”

“It was supposed to be, but Daisy posted about it and now half of her current and former students are apparently dropping by this morning.”

Bobbi almost choked on her coffee. “She does remember we’ve got the last dress fitting today? I had to beg for that appointment.”

“She remembers,” Mel said. “She’s just so excited.” She slumped back against the counter and rubbed one temple. “I should be excited for her.”

“You are,” Bobbi said gently. “Everything’s just kind of a whirlwind right now.”

The doorbell rang again. “Here,” Mel said, pulling a mug out of the cupboard. “Better put that in one of these so you don’t have to make fourteen runs to Elena’s.”

“Daisy’s already out there with a to-go cup,” Bobbi pointed out.

“She’s the bride. No one will bat an eyelash.”

“Must be nice.”

“I told her to enjoy it while it lasts. Come on, I’m sure Phil has some convoluted poisoning question for you. He’s halfway through his most recent novel and is at the change-the-entire-plot stage.”

Bobbi grinned. “Jemma’s not here yet? She loves coming up with gruesome ways to kill people.”

“Her plane was delayed, but she said she’ll definitely make it to the tasting session.” 

“She wouldn’t miss that for the world,” Bobbi laughed.

Mel shook her head, though a hint of a smile crossed her face. “I’m going to die of old age before those two get together.”

“I think we all will, at this rate,” Bobbi said, dumping her coffee into the mug. “Let’s go brave the crowd.”

They headed for the living room, and the gentle rumble of voices and laughter emanating from it. Bobbi clutched her coffee, inhaling the steam. Only one more week, and then she’d have a few days of actual vacation to relax. Maybe she’d get a massage, or-

She froze in the doorway to the living room, staring at the clump of people by the brightly lit tree. There was Phil, his glasses perched on the end of his nose, talking to Hunter. She blinked rapidly, but Lance remained stubbornly visible. His shoulders were broader, and thick scruff hid his dimples, but it was unmistakably him. Somehow, impossibly, he was here. From across the room, honey-brown eyes met hers and it got very hard to breathe. All thoughts of relaxing flew out the window.

“Bobbi!” Daisy said cheerfully, grabbing her arm and steering her to the other side of the room. She scowled toward Hunter and dropped her voice. “I’m sorry, I was coming to the kitchen to warn you, I really didn’t think he’d show.”

Bobbi couldn’t stop staring at the man across the room. He was still speaking to Phil but kept glancing in her direction. What that meant, she couldn’t possibly guess, but she refused to read anything into it. “Why is he…” she trailed off and straightened her shoulders. “I didn’t know he was in town.”

“Yeah, I was kind of surprised myself,” Daisy said. “Dad said they bumped into each other and I guess he thought we were old friends? Anyway, I’m so sorry. I’m sure he’ll leave soon. He can’t seriously be interested in talking to a bunch of strangers about my wedding.”

“No, it’s fine,” Bobbi said, drawing in a slow, calming breath. She handled classrooms full of high schoolers on a daily basis, one ex-boyfriend was nothing in comparison. 

Daisy bit her lower lip and glanced worriedly over her shoulder. “I know we weren’t close back then, but Jemma said it wasn’t…um, a very amicable breakup.”

Bobbi snorted. “That’s one way of putting it,” she muttered, taking a sip of her coffee.

“What are you two whispering about?” Piper said, popping up at Bobbi’s elbow. “Don’t tell me there’s a new crisis with the cake or something. How does anyone do this on purpose? It’s so stressful.” She took a sip of coffee out of a paper cup emblazoned with Elena’s on the side.

“Where did that come from?” Bobbi frowned.

“The guy hogging Phil,” Piper said. “Grant almost has an expression. Who is he, some ex-boyfriend?”

Daisy gave her old college roommate a fond look. “Grant has plenty of expressions, thank you, and no.” She shot Bobbi an apologetic look. “Uh, not mine, at least.” 

Piper’s eyes widened. “I see. Well, let me know if I need to chase him out.”

“It’s ancient history,” Bobbi said, tamping down on the nervous fluttering in her stomach. “He brought coffee?” She really had seen him this morning. It hadn’t been a figment of her imagination. She couldn’t decide what was worse, making up a Hunter sighting or actually facing the man himself. Either way, she didn’t have time for complications, which he most assuredly was.

“Maybe someone asked him to?” Piper said. “I try not to look gift caffeine in the mouth.” Piper’s nursing job at the local hospital required as much coffee as teaching, but it was a toss-up as to whose hours were crazier.

“I doubt he thought of it himself,” Bobbi said, narrowing her eyes as he caught her gaze once more. The corners of Hunter’s mouth turned up in a friendly smile. “He’s up to something.”

“Up to…” Daisy started, her brow furrowing.

“Like what?” Piper interrupted eagerly.

“I don’t know, but I’m going to find out,” Bobbi said, setting her mug aside. She jerked her head at the living room doorway and Hunter dipped his chin. Taking that as an affirmative, she headed for the front door. Her heart thumped loudly in her chest as she grabbed her coat and stepped outside. The snow gleamed in the bright sunshine, but the air was cool enough she could still see her breath. If this weather held, Daisy would get her winter wedding photos for sure.

“It’s nice to see you too,” a familiar accented drawl said behind her.

Bobbi spun around. Hunter stood on the stoop, shrugging into a peacoat. All the words she’d wanted to say to him over the last several years crowded into her throat, vying for attention.

“Hello,” she finally settled on.

“Hey,” he said, his expression softening. “You look good, Bob.”

The nickname catapulted her back nearly a decade. “It’s Bobbi,” she said, trying to put some distance between her memories and the man who stood before her now. He kept his hair shorter than he used to, and the curls she’d spend hours twisting around her fingers had all been lopped off.

He tilted his head at her. “I can’t call you Bob?”

“No.” She barely resisted stomping her foot. “Why are you here?”

“Was I supposed to ask your permission?”

“That’s not what I meant!”

“Sorry, _Barbara_ , I didn’t realize I had to clear my visit with you,” he continued like he hadn’t heard her.

“Like you’ve ever asked my permission before going anywhere,” she snapped. He flinched, and a vicious smugness set in that she’d scored a hit.

“Yeah, I deserved that one,” he said, taking all the wind out of her sails. A part of her wanted to hate him, but he’d always made it so damn difficult.

She sighed heavily. “Why are you here at this party, Hunter.”

“Ah,” Hunter rocked back on his heels. “Don’t suppose you’d accept ‘to congratulate the happy couple’ would you?”

“Do you even know the groom’s name?”

Something like regret flashed across Hunter’s face. “Yes, actually, he’s the reason I’m here.”

Bobbi frowned. “You know Grant?”

“Not personally, but I know his type: posh, arrogant nobs. Little odd he’s rushing this wedding, don’t you think?”

“What the hell does that mean?” A car parked at the curb down the block and children with ribbon-wrapped presents spilled out, shrieking to one another.

“Look,” Hunter said as the kids streaked past toward the house. “I can’t talk about it.”

“I know it’s your specialty, but you can’t just drop a bomb like that and leave!” she hissed, As they passed by, Bobbi dredged up a smile for the parents of the hellions she’d be teaching in a few years. The front door opened and closed behind her, cutting off a child’s loud greeting.

“Bob,” he said, reaching out and grasping her hand. The warmth of his palm seeped into her skin as his fingertips stroked her wrist. “I just can’t talk about it here.”

She swallowed hard, trying to rein in her temper. Right now, the wedding was her priority, and if Hunter knew something about the groom, she had to set aside their differences and be the adult. Some things never changed.

“Fine,” Bobbi said to their joined hands. “Name the place.”

“Mack’s?” Hunter said. She lifted her head in surprise and he shrugged. “I’ve kept in touch.”

Just not with her. “When?” she asked, working to keep the hurt out of her voice.

“Dinner? Say 7 o’clock?” He squeezed her hand, and she met his warm, steady gaze.

“Alright.” One dinner wouldn’t change anything for them, but it might for Daisy—and she’d made a promise to Mel. “I’ll be there.”

“Good.” Hunter gave her fingers one last squeeze before dropping her hand, and she tucked it into her coat pocket to keep from reaching for him again. “It really is good to see you,” he said, voice low. She shivered, but it wasn’t from the cold.

“Sure,” she said.

His smile was a pale imitation of its full glory, but it still made her heart flip over in her chest. “See you tonight.” Then he turned to saunter down the street.

She watched him go, unable to face anyone in the house just yet. All these years later, and Hunter still had the ability to turn her life upside down.

But this time, she wasn’t going to let him.


	2. Checking it twice

Bobbi’s phone rang in the depths of her purse, but she didn’t dare move. There were more pins in the dress she had on than ungraded midterm papers sitting at home for her to read.

She could hear excited chatter just outside the dressing room as everyone waited their turn for the fitting. Daisy’s wedding dress hung on the far wall. The shape was simple, but the lace made it gorgeous and Daisy had fallen in love with it immediately. Which was a damn good thing since this place was the only shop that had agreed to rush everything, including the bridesmaid gowns.

“Hold still,” the seamstress murmured, her eyes critically examining Bobbi from head to foot. Bobbi held her arms away from the dress, not daring to move. Raina held the fate of the wedding in her hands, and Bobbi wasn’t going to be the one who blew it. At least Daisy had picked a simple navy-blue sheath dress instead of some frothy concoction with a giant bow. “There, all done.” Kara placed a final pin, stepped back, and nodded. “Send in the next one.”

Bobbi sighed in relief and redressed before joining the others in the waiting area. The whole place screamed bridal, from the overstuffed floral print chairs to the pink striped walls and table full of wedding magazines.

Jemma hopped up as she emerged, looking way too fresh-faced to have just gotten off a transatlantic flight. “My turn?”

“You made it!” Bobbi gave her a brief hug and Jemma smiled brightly.

“Like I told Daisy, I wouldn’t miss this for the world and an early Christmas suited my parents just fine.”

“Next!” Kara yelled impatiently.

Piper slumped further down in her chair. “Not it,” she stage-whispered.

“I’ll tell you all about it later,” Jemma said, squeezing Bobbi’s arm, then she disappeared into the fitting room.

“Ooh, you have to try this,” Daisy said, holding up a tiny, elaborately decorated cake pop.

Taking the pastry, Bobbi settled onto a gaudy loveseat and popped it in her mouth. “Is that ginger?” she asked in surprise.

“I think so,” Daisy said, reaching for another.

“You do remember we’re cake tasting next,” Bobbi said, amused.

“Hey, Fitz made these, too!” Daisy said, eating another one. “This is like a pre-tasting.”

Piper laughed. “You’re just getting married for the cake, aren’t you.”

“It is a bonus,” Daisy mused.

Bobbi’s phone rang again, and she let out an exasperated sigh. “Just send a text,” she groused, rooting through her bag.

“Daisy?” a male voice called from the foyer.

“Grant!” Daisy abandoned the cake pop display and went to peek around the privacy screen separating them from the rest of the shop. “What are you doing here?”

“You forgot the bridesmaid gifts,” he said, leaning around the screen to wave at Piper and Bobbi as he handed Daisy a gift bag. Bobbi dutifully waved back, trying to read his expression. It was pleasant and bland, like the man himself. Maybe he played the doting groom a little too perfectly but given her track record, who was she to judge. And Hunter seriously shouldn’t be throwing stones either. He was the last person on earth allowed to doubt someone else’s commitment.

Daisy gasped. “Oh my god I could have sworn I put them in the car. You’re a lifesaver!”

“Glad I could help,” Grant said, bending to give Daisy a quick kiss. “Have fun, I’ll see you later.”

“Thanks, babe,” Daisy spun around, the bag clutched in her hands. “You guys, you’re going to love these.”

“Next!” Jemma trilled, coming out from behind the curtain.

“Crap,” Piper muttered, then stood and marched toward the fitting room like she was heading for finals.

Bobbi scowled at her phone as she wrestled it from the depths of her bag. She’s missed three calls from the caterer, who’d left voicemails but no texts. Oh, that was a bad sign. “Hang on,” she said as Daisy started pulling out their gifts. “I have to check on something.”

“Is everything okay?” Daisy asked.

“I’m sure it’s fine!” Bobbi tossed over her shoulder. She ducked around the privacy screen before Daisy could ask any follow-up questions and redialed the last number, looking around for somewhere she could talk without going out into the cold.

Tucking herself into a quiet alcove with a chair and a tasteful fake flower arrangement, Bobbi waited impatiently for someone to answer the phone before registering that she was alone. Frowning, she peered around the front of the shop, looking for Kara. The murmur of voices came from behind the register area, one of which was very familiar. Bobbi sat up straight. Hadn’t Grant left?

“Bobbi,” a man answered with false cheer. “How are you?”

“What’s wrong, Felix,” she said, keeping her voice low.

He laughed, the sound hollow. “Well, I wish I could say I have good news and bad news, but the news is all bad.”

“What happened?” Carefully, Bobbi crept toward the front desk. That was definitely Grant speaking, but she couldn’t hear what he was saying. A door leading to the back room was ajar, and she’d bet ten bucks he was back there with Kara. What the hell was he doing?

“Well,” Felix took a breath, “I can’t do the wedding.”

Bobbi’s stomach dropped, she’d been expecting some major problem involving supplies or staffing, not losing him entirely. “What?” she hissed.

“It’s not my fault!” he protested. “There was some mix-up with my paperwork and now-”

He droned on about regulations and food standards and something about his kitchen, none of which was helpful in Bobbi finding a replacement caterer in a week. Fifty people might be small for a wedding party, but it’d been hard enough to find one caterer willing to work on Christmas Eve. A second within a week was basically impossible. “How fast can you fix it?” she whispered.

“I can’t, Bobbi,” Felix said. “I’m sorry.”

Kara’s voice got louder, and Bobbi frowned, catching only every few words. Something about running out of time?

“I have to go,” Bobbi muttered into the phone, hanging up before Felix could continue his tirade about bureaucracy. She swallowed her panic. She’d think of something, even if it meant replating 50 orders of fried chicken from the local diner. Wait, would they be open on Christmas Eve? She’d have to check. Edging toward the partially open door, Bobbi held her breath and strained to hear what they were saying.

“We’ll be fine,” Grant said in a smooth, confident tone she hadn’t heard before. “I promise. Don’t you trust me?” Bobbi wrinkled her nose. That was definitely weird.

“Of course,” Kara replied. “It’s just-”

The front door opened, setting off the little bell above it, and Bobbi jumped as two women entered. She hastily retreated to the alcove as Kara appeared, then directed the women toward a wall of colorful dresses, their backs to the reception area. Grant stepped out a moment later, buttoning his coat. He stopped for a moment to scribble something on the notepad on the desk, then headed out the front door.

Poking her head out to confirm Kara was still occupied, Bobbi snuck a look at the note he’d left.

 _I’ll call you_ he’d scribbled on the blotter by the telephone.

What the hell? Of all the things she’d been worried about, Grant sneaking around with other women behind Daisy’s back hadn’t even made the list. One of the new customers drifted in her direction and Bobbi stepped away from the desk, her head spinning. Between Mel’s uneasiness, Hunter’s cryptic warning, and now this, something was definitely up.

First things first, find a new caterer. And then she had to figure out what the hell was going on with Daisy’s fiancé before her friend legally tied herself to him.

#

“This one’s delicious,” Daisy chirped happily, sliding a plate in Bobbi’s direction.

Bobbi started, trying to focus on the cake in front of her. She’d drawn a blank on any alternative caterers and was down to mentally running through the restaurants in town. Maybe if she begged, someone would take pity on her. “Sorry, what is it?”

“This one,” Jemma said, leaning forward as though she was imparting some great wisdom, “is the lemon chiffon cake with lavender filling.”

“Lavender,” Bobbi said, hoping she sounded suitably impressed.

“Isn’t that such a smart combination?” Jemma said, her cheeks flushing.

“Genius,” Piper deadpanned, and Bobbi stuck a bite in her mouth to keep from laughing.

“So far I think the chocolate might be winning,” Daisy said, pulling another plate closer. “Is chocolate and mint too cliché for a Christmas wedding?”

“Not if that’s what you want,” Bobbi said.

“You sound like Grant,” Daisy laughed.

“No opinion on the cake, either, huh?” Piper asked.

“He’s just trying to make things easier.” Daisy shrugged. “We know it’s kind of wild to throw a whole wedding together in a few weeks.”

“Well,” Bobbi said, scooping up a bite of the chocolate cake. “I don’t think you can go wrong with any of these.”

“Fitz is quite good at his craft,” Jemma said proudly.

“Here’s the last one,” Fitz announced, emerging from the kitchen. His hair was an unruly mess and his apron painted with flour and icing streaks, just like always. The extra pink in his cheeks, though, only showed up when Jemma was around.

“Thanks for doing this, Fitz,” Bobbi said. “I know you’re busy.” He’d taken up baking as a hobby while working IT for some small company, won a few local food contests, and suddenly found himself baking full time to keep up with demand. 

“I enjoy a challenge,” he said with a smile. “Don’t get to do a lot of wedding cakes. This one’s a bit off the beaten track.” He set a plate with a generous slice of cake in front of Daisy and stepped back. “It’s a spice cake with orange blossom icing and a touch a rum.”

Daisy’s eyes went wide as she took a bite. “This is amazing,” she mumbled through her mouthful.

“They’re all amazing,” Jemma said, propping her chin on her hand and smiling. Fitz smiled back, his hands twisting his apron into knots.

“You know,” Bobbi said. “There’s a lot of chemistry in baking.” She scooped up some of the newest cake and inspected it. The faintest whiff of orange teased her nose. “Maybe Fitz could offer a demonstration for your class sometime, Jemma.”

“Oh!” Jemma sat up straight, her smile wide. “What a brilliant idea. Do you think you could, Fitz?”

Fitz nodded silently, then cleared his throat. “I mean, yeah, of course, if you’d like that.”

“I’d love it,” Jemma breathed.

Piper snorted into her palate-cleansing sparkling water.

“I’ll…um, just be in the kitchen,” Fitz said. “So you can make a decision.”

“Sounds great,” Bobbi said. “Thanks again, Fitz.” He nodded again and left, still smiling.

Daisy nudged Jemma with her elbow. “Earth to Jems.”

Jemma blinked and finally tore her eyes away from the kitchen door. “Yes?”

“You do know you can just ask him to dinner.”

Jemma blushed harder. “I’m sure he’s seeing someone.”

“Nope,” Bobbi said, taking another bite of the chocolate cake. It really was delicious. Like a peppermint mocha. “He’s still single. Just like all the other times we’ve run into him.”

“But he has such a symmetrical face!” Jemma protested.

“Then maybe you better snap it up,” Daisy laughed. “Before someone else notices.”

“I bet you’d get a great discount if we just left Jemma here,” Piper said, snagging the spice cake.

“Speaking of run-ins,” Jemma said, ignoring them. “I heard someone unexpected showed up this morning. Are you alright?” She gazed at Bobbi, her eyes full of concern.

“Of course,” Bobbi said. “Hunter always did like to make an entrance. And an exit.”

“Still, I can’t believe he popped up after all these years. Is he visiting his aunt?”

“Izzy?” Bobbi asked, setting her fork aside. “Maybe. I didn’t ask. I’m sure he’ll be gone before long.” Hopefully, right after he told her whatever it was he knew about Grant. Besides Izzy, there weren’t many reasons for him to stick around.

“Can I ask for the short version?” Piper said, lifting a hand. “I don’t think I ever heard you mention him before.”

Bobbi shrugged. “There’s not much to tell. He and his mom moved in with Izzy junior year, which is when we met, and he decided to stay when his mom went back to England. We dated for a few years, but then I got into the teaching program at the state college and he decided he was missing out on ‘seeing the world’. So he left.”

There was a short silence. “I’m sorry,” Piper offered. 

“Don’t be. Like I said, it was a long time ago. Running into him was just a surprise, that’s all.”

Daisy patted her hand sympathetically. “We were all surprised.”

“And now you get to surprise us with your choice of cake,” Bobbi said, attempting a smile. “What’s it going to be?”

“Don’t kill me,” Daisy said. “But I love the chocolate and mint one.”

Bobbi laughed. “Seasonally appropriate cake it is.”

She got up to go inform Fitz, leaving the others chatting around the table. She was beyond ready to go home, curl up in some comfortable pajamas and watch some terrible, mindless television, but instead, she had to solve the caterer problem and the possible fiancé problem.

And have dinner with her ex. Her biggest problem.


	3. Just like the ones I used to know

Bobbi stared up at the brightly lit _Mackenzie’s Bar and Grill_ sign, a beacon in the winter darkness, and contemplated just turning around and driving straight home.

The last time she’d gone out to dinner with Hunter, it’d ended in an all-night, epic argument that had begun at their favorite Thai food place, escalated during the walk home, and continued through every room of their tiny apartment. How they’d gone from celebrating her acceptance into the teaching program to fighting about the price of a Eurail Pass she’d never understand.

That night hadn’t been the end of their relationship, but afterward, nothing had been the same. Summer had kicked off hot and muggy, and they’d gone from cuddling in bed to barely touching, using the heat as an excuse. Instead of hunting for a new place with her closer to the college, Hunter had packed his things and stored them in Izzy’s garage. They’d both understood what was coming, but neither of them had wanted to put it into words.

By the time her fall semester started, he was gone. He’d post an occasional photo from whatever country he’d landed in, but she’d stopped checking in an attempt to avoid the rollercoaster of emotions accompanying each one. Instead, she’d thrown herself into school, and it wasn’t until she emerged with a diploma and a brand-new job that she realized he wasn’t coming back.

It’d hit her then, all the grief for what might have been. Hunter had just been a part of so many of the good things in her life that moving on without him felt…wrong.

Groaning, Bobbi slumped over the steering wheel. She needed to get a grip. Their past had nothing to do with why Hunter was here, and she’d built a whole new life without him. She loved her classroom, her students, and her friends. She was happy, and, in the moments when she thought of him (and when he wasn’t interfering with a friend’s wedding) she hoped he was happy too.

She straightened up and opened the car door. At the very least, this gave her an opportunity to say hello to Mack. She’d only been to his place a couple of times since he’d opened, but the food was amazing and, if she was lucky, he’d miraculously been considering a catering side gig.

A chill wind snuck under her collar and Bobbi wrapped her scarf more securely around her neck, hurrying toward the restaurant. A blast of warm air and the quiet chatter of diners greeted her as she slipped through the front door. The dark wood bar and large booths were lit by individual sconces and the faint strains of Christmas music underscored the cozy, intimate atmosphere. Almost against her will, the knot between her shoulders slowly began to unwind.

Not exactly the kind of place she’d have picked to have a quick chat with her ex, but it was too late now.

Hunter was seated at the bar, his back to her, and her heart skipped a beat as he turned around like he knew she’d be there. Or possibly he’d just caught her reflection in the mirror over the bar. She rolled her eyes at herself and headed in his direction.

“You came,” Hunter said.

“You don’t have to sound so surprised.”

A smile flitted across his face. “Even if I am?”

“I said I’d be here.”

“That you did.”

“What can I get you?” the bartender asked, setting a drink mat in front of her.

“Just a water,” Bobbi said.

“They’ve got your favorite beer,” Hunter said.

“Maybe it’s not my favorite anymore.”

He pursed his lips. “I’m not trying to start a fight, Bob.”

“Then stop pretending you know anything about me,” she snapped.

“Water,” the poor bartender said, pretending not to notice the way they were glaring at each other. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and the white button-up, skinny black tie combo made him look straight out of another era. 

“Thank you,” Bobbi muttered.

“Cheers, Daniel.” Hunter stood, a beer in one hand, and gestured toward an empty booth. “Shall we?”

Bobbi nodded stiffly and grabbed her water before sliding into the bench across from him. His eyes were unreadable in the dim lighting, but his face was achingly familiar in a way that stirred a mix of old feelings to the surface. Trying to find her equilibrium, she took a deep breath.

“Are you to tell me what you’re doing here?” 

“I am,” Hunter said, one corner of his mouth lifting. “But I was hoping to order first.”

On cue, Daniel slid a couple of menus in front of them and pulled a pen out from behind his ear. “What can I get you?”

“Anything green,” Bobbi said.

“Bob, come on,” Hunter said. “You haven’t changed that much. You want more than a salad.”

“I’ve been eating cake literally all day. Vegetables sound magical right now.”

“Mack’s eggplant parm is fantastic.”

She scowled at him, then picked up the menu. Of course, the first thing she saw was the eggplant parmesan, and the description sounded amazing.

“Fine, that and a side salad.” She glanced up, daring him to say something, but Hunter just handed his menu back to Daniel.

“The usual,” he said. Daniel nodded and scribbled on his notepad before heading back to the bar.

Bobbi lifted her eyebrows. “You have a usual?”

“I told you, Mack and I have kept in touch.”

“I didn’t realize it was a ‘usual order’ kind of touch,” she said stiffly. Reaching for her water, she had a brief moment of regret it wasn’t something stronger.

Hunter picked up his beer. “Yeah, that’s actually one of the things I wanted to talk about.”

“Bobbi!” Mack said, coming around the bar. His height made him impossible to miss, and the bright red reindeer-patterned shirt he had on only compounded the effect. 

She smiled, her bad mood ebbing, and pointed at his shirt as he halted by their table. “A Hope special, I presume?”

“You know it,” he said, chuckling. “It’s good to see you.”

“You too,” Bobbi said.

“How are things?” he asked.

“Busy,” she said. “I wasn’t planning on organizing an entire wedding this month.”

“Hope’s been going on about it nonstop,” Mack said. “Miss Daisy is a hot topic at our house.”

“Hey, speaking of Daisy’s wedding, I might have a huge favor to ask.”

Mack narrowed his eyes. “Might?”

“Do,” Bobbi confessed. “We just lost the caterer, and I’ve been wracking my brain trying to come up with a way to feed 50 people on Christmas Eve.” She clasped her hands and sent him a pleading look. “You wouldn’t happen to know someone who could fill in?”

“It’s not something we usually do, but for Miss Daisy…” Mack glanced at Hunter, who lifted a shoulder. “We can probably figure something out,” Mack said.

“We?” Bobbi asked, confused.

Mack hooked a thumb at Hunter. “He owns a good chunk of this place. Didn’t he tell you?”

“No, he did not,” Bobbi bit out.

Mack cleared his throat. “Gotcha. Well, I’m sure you can work out all the details. I’ll just go check on your food.” He disappeared without another word, leaving them alone again.

“You _own_ this place?” she hissed, leaning over the table.

Hunter winced. “I’m more of a silent partner,” he said. “Ran into Mack last year when I stopped in to see Aunt Iz and we got to talking.”

“Ah,” she said. Bobbi had a thousand more questions she wanted to ask, but most of them boiled down to, ‘didn’t you ever want to see me?’ and she wasn’t sure she wanted the answer to that.

“How’ve you been?” he asked like they were just old friends catching up.

“Fine. Great, actually,” she said, lifting her chin.

“Izzy said you’re working at our old alma matter.” He gave her another tentative smile. “Must have been bizarre, walking back into that place as a teacher.”

“I had Mel—Ms. May—to show me the ropes, and Jemma started the same year, so it wasn’t too weird,” she said.

“Not sure I could bring myself to step foot on campus again,” he said, relaxing back against his seat. “You always were fearless.”

The compliment gave her pause. “How about you?” she asked, instead of needling him about his aversion to any kind of formal education.

“Alright,” he said. He fidgeted with the label of his beer bottle, peeling a strip off and setting it on the table. “I’m a P.I. now.”

“A private investigator?” she asked. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah, I know.” He grinned. “But it turns out I’m pretty good at it. Get to make my own hours, cases are different enough to keep me from getting bored, and best of all, no boss.”

“You never did like authority figures,” she snorted. 

“Most of them.” His smile turned wry as he leaned forward and trailed a finger across the back of her hand. Electricity zipped up her arm. “Listen, Bob, I wanted to-”

“Eggplant?” Danial said before Bobbi could react. She pulled back, her pulse loud in her ears, so he could serve her dinner. “And a cheeseburger.” He set a plate in front of Hunter. “Another beer?”

“Yeah, thanks,” Hunter said, handing over his empty bottle. “Bob?”

“Sure,” she said, leaning in to inhale the pile of sauce and cheese in front of her. “This smells amazing.”

“I knew you’d like it.” Hunter looked pleased.

She picked up her fork and studied his expression. It seemed nothing but sincere, which was a little unnerving. “So, you’re a P.I.,” she said, then froze as all the pieces slotted into place. “Oh my god, you’re investigating Grant?”

Hunter shook his head, glancing around. “Not specifically,” he said. Daniel dropped off a couple of beers with a smile and Hunter waited until he was behind the bar again. “I’m looking into his family.”

“For what?” Bobbi said, but he just lifted a shoulder.

“Not sure. They’ve got a lot of money but it’s not clear where it’s coming from. I’m trying to pin it down.”

“You think there’s something illegal going on?” Bobbi asked. “Is Grant in on it?”

“Like I said, I’m trying to pin it down. Only been on a job a couple of days.”

“Who hired you?”

He averted his eyes. “I can’t tell you, Bob, and I’d appreciate it if you kept this quiet.” 

She slumped back, disappointed. “But you think there’s something weird about Grant, too, right?”

“Maybe.” He frowned. “I really thought you’d be defending Daisy’s fiancé.”

“I don’t really know him. No one does. Daisy met him through some dating app, and before we knew it, they were engaged.” She lowered her voice. “I think he might be cheating on her.”

Hunter stuck a french fry in his mouth and chewed thoughtfully. “What makes you say that?”

She hesitated for a moment before deciding of all the people she knew, Hunter was probably the safest one to share her concerns with. It wasn’t like Daisy or Jemma would be hanging out with him anytime soon. “He showed up at the dress fitting today and I heard him talking to the receptionist in the backroom after we thought he’d left. They might have been arguing, I couldn’t really tell.”

“You sure it wasn’t about the wedding?” Hunter asked.

“No, but it was just…” she paused, trying and failing to put her hunch into words. “It didn’t feel right.”

“Cheating isn’t exactly what I’m looking for, Bob.”

She nearly growled in frustration. “Well, sorry if my concern for a friend is _beneath_ you. Maybe it’s not as exciting as traveling the world or solving crime or whatever, but if Daisy’s boyfriend is going to skip out on her, I think she deserves to know!” 

“That’s not what I-” he cut himself off. “Christ, Bob, you don’t make things easy, do you?”

“Why should I?” she said, pushing her plate away. “It’s not like you give a damn about what I think, anyway.”

Hunter’s face fell. “I do, Bob, and I’m sorry I cocked everything up, I didn’t mean…” he sighed. “It doesn’t matter. Ward Senior’s definitely holding the reins on the family’s money, and that’s the trail I’m following, but maybe Grant’s not as clean as he looks. If I find anything, I’ll tell you, alright?”

“The wedding is in a week!”

“I know!” He rubbed his temple. “I didn’t ask you here just to argue, Bob.”

“Could have fooled me,” she muttered.

“I need your help.”

She snorted into her beer. “What?” 

“There’s some party tomorrow at the Ward house, yeah?”

“Yes,” she said, narrowing her eyes. “It’s a kind of engagement slash pre-wedding celebration since everything’s been so rushed. Why?”

“I need an invitation,” he said.

She waited for an actual explanation, leisurely sipping her drink. Her patience had been honed by high schoolers, there was no way he’d outlast her.

“Fine,” he finally said, sounding exasperated. “I need to get into the house, and it’s the perfect opportunity.”

“To snoop?” Bobbi asked.

“I do not _snoop_.” He glared at her. “I investigate.”

She suppressed a smile at the familiar irritated tone. She liked that a hell of a lot better than the weird indifference he kept trying to pull off. “I’m just showing up,” Bobbi said with a shrug. “I had nothing to do with the guest list. I could ask Daisy to add you?”

He shook his head. “No, I don’t want my name attached to anything, even a fake one. However, if I show up a plus one…” he trailed off expectantly. 

A mouthful of beer almost went down the wrong way, and Bobbi coughed. “I’m sorry, you want to go as my _date_?”

“It’s not that outlandish, is it?” Something sparked in his eyes.

Heat pooled in her belly, but Bobbi ignored the hint of interest. She wasn’t going down that road again. She couldn’t.

“It’s totally outlandish, but luckily, you’ve been gone long enough most of these people won’t know that.”

Hurt flashed across his face. “Bob-”

“No,” she said, holding up a hand. “I’m not asking for an explanation. We’re way past that. I’ll help you get into the party on the condition that if you find _anything_ out about Grant, you tell me.”

“I will, Bob, I promise.” Reaching over, Hunter clinked their beer bottles together. “Here’s to being partners.”

“Just for this one case,” she clarified.

He smiled and she drank, pushing her misgivings to the back of her mind. Getting to the bottom of whatever Grant was up to was more important than her mixed feelings about her ex.

Even if some of those feelings were a hell of a lot warmer than she’d imagined.


	4. Baby, it's cold outside

In a real estate listing, Bobbi was positive they would use words like ‘grand’, ‘stately’, and ‘imposing’ to describe the Ward house. There were actual columns on either side of the two-story front entrance, and the stone façade was lit by floodlights. It was obviously brand new. The landscaping hadn’t yet grown to match the size of the house, and the puny bushes looked lonely, spread so far apart.

Snow clung to the eaves and if there’d been more decorations than one wreath tacked onto the front door, it might have looked festive. Light spilled through multiple windows of the house, and it was clear from the number of cars in the drive they weren’t even close to the first to arrive.

“Are we going in?” Hunter asked, peering through the windshield. “Or did you want to snog a bit first?” She shot him a withering look and he grinned. “To get into character.”

So far, he’d helped her with her coat, opened her car door, and complimented her dress, all while cheerfully declaring it helped to ‘get into character’. At least she’d drawn the line at getting stuck out here without her car. He could be the one to hitch a ride back to town if he got caught. She wouldn’t make it half a mile in the shoes she was wearing. Heels hadn’t been part of the original outfit she’d planned on wearing tonight, but she figured a little extra height would help her keep an eye on things.

Those things mostly being Hunter.

She smoothed her red dress down over her knees one last time and took a breath. “Remember, this is for Daisy and-”

“Hey.” He reached over and took her hand. “I’m not planning to bugger up her party, alright? I know it’s hard to believe, but I have learned a thing or two about discretion in the last few years.” Aligning their fingertips, he pressed their palms together so her arm was tucked against his side. His touch was gentle, warm, and entirely too soothing. For a moment she was tempted to take him up on the offer to make out in the car. 

“That is hard to believe,” she murmured, resisting the urge to lean against him.

“Learned a few other things, too,” he said. “Got a lot I’d like to tell you, Bob, if you’re willing to listen.”

Another car pulled in the drive, headlight sweeping through the small, enclosed space, and the soft look in his eyes was almost her undoing.

Instead, she pulled her hand from his grasp, clearing her throat. “We should go in.” She opened the car door without waiting for a reply. Salt crystals crunched underfoot as they headed for the front door, the silence increasing the distance between them.

Laughter echoed across the driveway behind them, and Bobbi reached out to stop Hunter’s hand before he pressed the doorbell, her fingers catching the cuff of his peacoat. “I’ll listen,” she said. “But I can’t promise anything else.”

He gave her a smile that reached his eyes, the corners crinkling softly in a way that was brand new, and then firmly pressed the doorbell. “Showtime.”

#

“Bobbi!” Jemma hissed, dragging her behind a potted palm. “Hunter is here?”

“Yes, he is,” Bobbi said.

“Daisy said-” Jemma looked around furtively like she was about to impart a state secret. “She said he came with _you_.”

“He just wanted to...um, congratulate the happy couple.” Bobbi winced, sure that excuse sounded just as ridiculous as when Hunter used it, but Jemma didn’t seem to notice.

“Okay, but he’s been _looking_ at you,” Jemma said, gesturing toward a knot of people with her half-full glass. “Like…I don’t know, like he thinks there’s something.”

Bobbi’s stomach did a flip, and she couldn’t resist glancing over. Hunter was laughing politely at something a white-haired old woman said, his head bent in her direction. The grey button-up and black slacks combination he was wearing had no right making him look as good as he did.

“How many of those have you had?” Bobbi, asked, eying the champagne flute in Jemma’s hand.

“Don’t try to change the subject.” Jemma glared at her. “What is going on with you two?”

“Nothing, I promise,” Bobbi said. She sipped her own drink, a boring combination of soda water and lime. Hunter’s presence—and his real reason for being there—was making her nervous enough, she didn’t need to add alcohol on top of it.

The buzz of conversation filled the room they were in, echoing off the high ceilings and masking the frankly terrible hired pianist shoved in one corner. The obvious newness of the house was clear on the inside, too. The furniture was sparse and brand new, and all the decorating choices were almost insultingly neutral. At one end of the large room, an undersized Christmas tree had been set up in front of a window, a single nod to the upcoming wedding theme they were all supposedly there to celebrate.

There were probably plenty of reasons the Wards' party for their son’s wedding looked like an afterthought—the main one being how quickly things were moving—but she’d thought for people so clearly invested in appearances, they would have put in more effort.

Bobbi shook her head. Great, now she was suspicious of Daisy’s fiancé _and_ his entire family. She sought out Hunter in the crowd again. He’d moved on to the bar, where he appeared to be deep in conversation with one of the servers. 

“If you’re sure,” Jemma frowned. “But just so you know, if he hurts you again, I’m going to…to-” Her nose scrunched up. “Well, I don’t know, exactly, but Phil and I have thought up several unpleasant concoctions for his books.” 

Impulsively, Bobbi hugged her. “Thank you,” she said, pulling back. “But I’m fine. He’s just-” she hesitated, “here for the holidays.”

The half-truth made her uneasy. She didn’t keep many secrets from her friends and now she was carrying two big ones. But until Bobbi had more than a bad feeling and one weird conversation, there was no reason to make Jemma worry, too. Plus, Jemma was absolutely awful at lying. Daisy would know right away something was up.

The gentle tinkling of a spoon against a glass sounded over the crowd, and Jemma gasped. “Oh, a toast!” she lifted her glass and made a face at it. “I need another drink.”

“Please tell me you have a ride home.”

“Mel’s driving us!” Jemma said cheerfully.

“Good. Have fun,” Bobbi said, pointing her in the direction of a nearby waiter who was circulating with a tray of champagne flutes. Hunter was headed in their direction, and she crossed her fingers that meant he’d finished his snooping so she could relax.

“You too,” Jemma said, giving her a shrewd look.

“Nothing’s going on,” Bobbi repeated as Hunter snagged two champagne flutes off a passing tray.

Jemma just winked and headed off to chase down a waiter.

“No, thank you,” Bobbi said as Hunter offered her a glass.

“It’s just for show,” Hunter said. “I wouldn’t drink it. Tastes like they got a discount on a case left out in the sun.”

Bobbi let out a surprised laugh and accepted the glass. Hunter took her soda water and set it on a nearby table, then slid a hand across her lower back. Heat from his palm seeped through the thin fabric of her dress, and Bobbi’s pulse kicked up a notch.

“How’s the bride?” he asked as the crowd drifted toward the Christmas tree, where Grant and his parents were standing.

“Last I saw, enjoying herself.” Bobbi gave the champagne a cautious sniff, then made a face. “Wow, you were not kidding.”

Grant raised his glass and Hunter’s hand tightened on her hip. “Come on,” he said quietly. 

“But-”

“Bob,” he murmured. “Trust me.”

She let him steer her out of the room and down an eerily empty hall, the noise from the party fading to a dull murmur. “You want to talk now?” she asked in confusion. 

“Not exactly,” he said, opening a nearby door and peering inside before closing it again.

“Then what are you doing?”

“Snooping,” he said, flashing her a grin and opening the next door.

Bobbi glanced over her shoulder. “Are you kidding me? Why are you dragging me into this?”

“Because,” Hunter said, opening a third door. “Aha!” He ushered her into a cluttered office and flipped on the light. It was the first room she’d seen with a speck of personality, even if that personality was cigar-smoking CEO. Closing the door behind him, Hunter plucked the champagne glass from her hand and set it on the desk next to his own. “Disappearing from the party on my own looks suspicious. Disappearing with you, much less so.” He smirked, then settled into the gaudy leather desk chair and powered on the computer.

“What are you doing?” Bobbi hissed, coming around to stand beside him. “Don’t you need a warrant or something to go through people’s things?”

“Only if you’re a cop,” Hunter murmured as he jiggled the mouse. “Which I’m definitely not.” He frowned at the screen, which was requesting a password, then lifted the keyboard and peered underneath. “Any ideas as to what Ward’s password might be?”

“How the hell should I know?” Bobbi grasped his arm. “You tried, okay? Let’s get back to the party.”

“Just give me a second,” Hunter said, quickly typing something in. Nothing happened. “Damn,” he muttered. Pushing the chair back, he lifted up the blotter, then the pencil holder, his frown deepening.

Heaving a sigh, Bobbi picked up a nearby appointment book and opened the back cover. “Here,” she said, handing him the book with its neat list of passwords on the last page.

He gazed up at her in surprise. “How did you-”

“It’s where I keep mine,” she confessed.

“We’re going to have to chat about that,” he said, typing in the first on the list. He let out a quiet whoop when the computer accepted it, then pulled a thumb drive out of a pocket.

“How long is this going to take?” Bobbi asked, glancing nervously at the door.

“Not long,” Hunter said absently, clicking on several desktop folders. “I’m just copying everything. I’ll go through it later.”

“If we get arrested, I’m blaming this all on you.”

“We’re not going to get arrested, Bob,” Hunter said. “I doubt Ward wants the cops looking into him.”

“Oh, great, so he’ll just, what, make us sleep with the fishes?”

“Might be difficult, what with everything being iced over,” he said, sounding amused.

“Can you be serious for two seconds?” she asked, exasperated.

“He’s probably just a tax cheat, not a mobster.”

“Like Al Capone, you mean?” she shot back.

“You-”

The sounds of the doorknob tuning interrupted him and sent a chill skittering up Bobbi’s spine. A moment later she found herself unceremoniously yanked into Hunter’s lap. She yelped and wrapped her arms around his shoulders to keep from ending up on the ground while he hastily turned off the computer screen.

And then he was kissing her.

Bobbi squeaked in surprise and he adjusted the angle of his mouth, his hand caressing her hip until her eyes slid shut of their own accord. His mouth was soft and lush and the kiss tentative until she parted her lips. Pulling her against him more firmly, Hunter deepened the kiss, his tongue sweeping through her mouth, and she groaned, clutching him tightly.

Someone cleared their throat and she pulled back, staring at Hunter. His eyes searched her face, his chest heaving, and the nothing between them suddenly seemed a hell of a lot closer to something. 

“I was going to ask what you were doing in here,” Grant’s father asked wryly. “But instead I’ll just say this office is off-limits.” 

“Sorry,” Bobbi said breathlessly, scrambling up from Hunter’s lap. She put herself between the door and Hunter, praying he’d removed the thumb drive. “We didn’t…um, realize where we’d ended up.”

“Brenda, right?” he said, giving her a smile that had all the warmth of a shark’s. “You’re one of Daisy’s friends.”

“It’s Bo-”

“That’s right,” Hunter said in some kind of awful imitation of a Texas drawl. He stood, pressing a hand against the small of her back and propelling her toward the door. “Got a little carried away. We’ll get out of y’all’s hair.”

“Sorry,” Bobbi offered one last time as she eased past Mr. Ward into the hallway. Hunter followed, giving the man an easy grin. Grant’s father sent them one last suspicious look before closing the office door, leaving them alone. She sagged against Hunter, trying to catch her breath, and then smacked his chest with an open hand.

“Ow,” Hunter complained, opening the door directly across from the office. He pulled her in with him before quickly shutting the door again.

“What was that?” she hissed in the semi-darkness. The room smelled like dust and floor cleaner, and the vague outlines of a bed and nightstand told her they’d ended up in what was likely a guest room.

“That was us covering our tracks,” he said.

“That was us almost getting caught!”

“But we didn’t,” he murmured, settling his hands on her hips. “Did we?”

“No thanks to your awful accent,” she whispered, her heart still pounding. “Shouldn’t we go back to the party?”

“First, I’m insulted you think it’d be over that quickly, and second, only if you want to make him even more suspicious.” 

“So, we’re stuck in here,” she said, smoothing a hand over his chest where she’d hit him.

“Something like that,” he rumbled, stepping closer. The darkness hid his expression, and her head was spinning like she’d drunk several glasses of cheap champagne.

“Pretending to kiss.” Her fingertips followed the line of his collar around to the nape of his neck and slid into his hair. She could smell his cologne, and the taste of him still lingered in her mouth. Desire, hot and needy, pulsed through her veins.

She heard him swallow. “Yeah.”

“Or,” she said, resting her chin on his shoulder. “Not pretending?”

His grip on her hips tightened “Whatever you want,” Hunter said, his voice hoarse.

“I want you to kiss me,” she whispered.

Turning his head, Hunter captured her mouth, wrapping his arms around her waist and hauling her against him. This kiss was rough and insistent, teeth and tongues clashing as they figured out how to fit together again. He curled a hand into her hair and tugged her head back, nipping at her chin, before moving lower.

“Lance,” she gasped, clutching his shoulders.

He hummed, kissing a path her throat, and Bobbi’s head thunked back against the door. “I’ve wanted to kiss you all bloody night,” he murmured against her skin. “Christ, Bob, you-”

She cupped his chin and directed him upward, again, cutting him off with a fierce kiss. The line of his erection pressed insistently against her thigh and suddenly kissing wasn’t nearly enough. Sucking on his lower lip, she slid a hand between them and fumbled with his belt buckle.

He groaned, tugging up her dress as she tackled the zipper of his pants. 

“I need you,” she breathed.

“I don’t-” He shuddered as she slipped her hand into his boxers. “No rubber,” he croaked, nipping at her earlobe.

“I’m covered,” she whispered. “Please.”

“Fuck,” Hunter gasped, fumbling to free his cock. “Bob, listen, I-”

She silenced him by pulling her dress up higher and wrapping a leg around his hip, her back braced against the door. He ground his bare cock against her thigh as he pushed her underwear to one side and slipped two fingers into her pussy.

“Please,” she said again, cupping his cheek. The stubble was rough against her palm as Hunter turned to kiss her hand, then positioned his cock and her entrance and pushed inside. She whimpered, grasping his shoulders, and he paused, dropping kisses along her collarbone. His grip on her thigh tightened as he withdrew a bit, then sheathed himself fully inside her.

“Okay?” he asked, his voice husky.

It was much more than okay, but she’d given enough of herself to him for one night, so she just nodded, her chest heaving. “Yes,” she whispered, fingers digging into his shoulder. He drew back slightly before thrusting in again, and she closed her eyes, reveling in the feel of him moving inside her, the sound of his panting breaths, and a thousand other tiny things her memory had failed to capture. He shifted his grip to her ass, giving him more leverage, and the door rattled in its hinges in time with his movements.

Well, that would certainly dispel the idea that they might have been sneaking around for any other reason.

Burying his face in the crook of her neck, Hunter picked up his pace, and she shoved a hand between them, searching for her clit. He let out a muffled string of curses against her neck, his rhythm stuttering, and she moved her fingers faster as he came, his body trembling in her grasp.

“Bob,” he murmured, nipping at the thin skin of her throat. He stroked the crease where her thigh met her ass, his touch gentle, and she finally tipped over the edge. All the air left her lungs as her orgasm washed through her, and her knee wobbled precariously. A perfectly good bed two feet away, and they’d had sex against a door. Only Hunter could make all her common sense fly out the window.

Carefully, Hunter withdrew his cock and guided her leg back to the floor. “Alright?”

The tender tone was almost her undoing. She wanted to sink into him and pretend nothing had changed, but of course, that was impossible. “Fine,” she said, finally releasing her grip on his shirt. “Please tell me there’s an attached bathroom.”

“I’ll find out,” he said, giving her a lingering kiss. “Don’t go anywhere.”

“I won’t.” Bobbi swallowed down her request that he do the same. They weren’t the same people they used to be. An orgasm wasn’t going to change that.


	5. All I want for Christmas

“Hello?” Bobbi mumbled into the phone. Grey light filtered through her bedroom curtains, which meant either the sun was barely up, or it was snowing again.

“I figured you’d need a wake-up call if Jemma and Daisy were anything to go by last night,” Mel said, her voice entirely too cheerful for…whatever time in the morning it was.

Bobbi pulled her phone away to squint at the screen. It was well past dawn. “Shit!” The lump in the bed next to her stirred, slinging an arm over her middle.

“Yeah,” Mel said wryly as she put the phone back to her ear. “That’s what my darling daughter said, too, but I wasn’t the one who scheduled a cookie bake-athon for the morning after my engagement party.”

Bobbi slumped back against the pillow and yawned. “It’s the time that worked best for Fitz.”

“How thoughtful,” Mel said in the same tone she used when she came across students after the homeroom bell. “Then I assume none of you will be late.”

“Of course not,” Bobbi lied.

The sound of a door closing came across the line. “What did you think of Grant’s speech last night?” Mel whispered.

“Um, well,” Bobbi hedged. “It seemed…fine?” Beside her, Hunter pressed a kiss to her bare shoulder.

“Yes, it was _fine_ ,” Mel hissed. “But was it the speech of a man who can’t wait to get married? To my one and only daughter?”

Hunter rumbled interestedly and cupped her breast, making Bobbi’s breath catch. “Daisy thinks so?” she squeaked.

Mel sighed. “She does, I just…I want her to be absolutely sure.”

“I know,” Bobbi said, trying to wiggle out from under the blankets. Hunter made a noise of protest and slid a leg over hers. “I’m keeping my eyes open, but she seems pretty happy.”

“Thank you,” Mel said. “I’ll tell the girls you’ll meet them at Fitz’s.”

“I’ll be there,” Bobbi said, successfully extracting one leg and shivering as the cold air snuck under the covers.

“And tell Lance I said hello,” she said.

Bobbi froze, and Hunter picked up his head, eyes wide. “S-sure. Bye.” She pressed end on the call and tossed the phone on her nightstand before covering her face with her hands. “Oh my god,” she groaned.

“She really does know everything, doesn’t she?” Hunter chuckled, nuzzling her ear. “Remember when she found us-”

“No,” Bobbi said quickly before she could get caught up in the bittersweet memories of their shared past. Flinging the blankets aside, she grabbed her robe off a nearby chair and pulled it on, her back to the bed.

Hunter had stopped talking, which never would have happened back in high school, but then she felt a tug on the belt of her robe, silently questioning her change in mood. His methods might have changed, but he was still, fundamentally, Hunter.

Which made everything more complicated. 

“You know she can’t give us detention anymore,” he said.

“No, now she’s just my boss,” she retorted.

“And your friend, sounds like,” he said, tucking an arm behind his head. “So, either there’s some puritanical morality clause in your contract, or you’re upset she knows I’m here. Should I guess which one it is, Bob?”

She sank down on the side of the bed and sighed. “Don’t do that.”

“Don’t do what?”

“Don’t act like this doesn’t affect me, too. I live here, Hunter. This is my life and yes, I care what my friends think, okay?”

Surprise flashed across his face, and he reached out, picking up her hand. His thumb traced the bumps of her knuckles, and he frowned. “And you don’t want them knowing I’m here.”

“No!” Bobbi said, exasperated. “Because they’ll have a hundred questions and a thousand opinions, and they’ll make this out to be some big deal when we both know it’s not.”

He studied her, his touch gentle, and then lifted her hand to his mouth, kissing each fingertip in turn.

“Not true,” Hunter smirked. “I’ve got a bi-”

Bobbi pitched forward and smushed her lips against his in a futile attempt to stop his mouth.

“-g deal for you right here,” he finished, voice muffled. His hand snuck into her robe, pushing it back off her shoulders and Bobbi let out a halfhearted noise of protest as she stretched out beside him. He pulled her closer and she slid back under the covers, shedding her robe.

“That was awful,” she whispered between kisses.

“You love it,” he murmured back. Her stomach swooped, and she closed her eyes, concentrating on the scratch of his scruff against her cheek. Love was simultaneously too big and too small a word for her feelings about Hunter, but she wasn’t some naïve twenty-year-old who believed in happily ever after anymore. This was just a nice interlude before real life resumed.

“I’m supposed to go bake cookies,” she said, trailing a hand down his back. His erection poked her hip and she shuddered in anticipation.

“They can start without you,” he rumbled. “Stay.”

She nipped at his lower lip. “Maybe for a little while.”

#

“Sorry I’m late!” Bobbi said, closing Fitz’s front door behind her. “I overslept,” she said, hanging her coat between Jemma’s sensible wool trench and Daisy’s hot pink puffy jacket.

Daisy poked her head into the foyer. The front of her apron covered in flour and something green. “Didn’t Mom call you like, an hour ago?”

Bobbi followed her into the dining room and frowned. “Where are the others?”

“In the kitchen, waiting for the cookies to bake,” Daisy said. “Fitz won’t let me back there because he said, and I quote ‘I’m experimenting with the structure of your cake and the design’s not ready yet’.”

Jemma squealed loud enough for them to hear it through the door and Bobbi lifted her eyebrows. “Are we sure they’re coming back?”

“Piper’s supervising,” Daisy said, nonchalantly leaning back in her chair. “Although apparently, they’re not the only ones who need a chaperone.”

Bobbi picked up a clean apron and slipped it over her head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure,” Daisy snorted. “And you totally didn’t leave with Hunter last night.”

“I was his ride!”

“Wow, way too much information.”

“Shut up,” Bobbi said, tossing a marshmallow at her friend.

“Watch it!” Daisy ducked, laughing. “Don’t let Fitz catch you treating his cookie ingredients like that.”

“How long does it take to bake a batch of cookies?” Bobbi asked, plopping down in a kitchen chair. Her knees were still a little wobbly. Hunter seemed very intent on proving his stamina had improved since they were in high school, and she wasn’t about to complain.

“Fitz said eight to twelve minutes and then grumbled about the Piper’s rolling pin skills, so you have time to tell me everything. Jemma mentioned you snuck off during the party, too.” Daisy waggled her eyebrows.

“We were just…” Bobbi trailed off. _Investigating your fiancé_ , she couldn’t say. “Checking out the house,” she finished lamely.

“Uh-huh,” Daisy said knowingly. “Jemma said there was definitely some checking out going on.”

“Like she’s one to talk,” Bobbi said, crossing her arms. “It’s nothing, okay?” 

“Hey,” Daisy said, her teasing smile fading. “I know. And there’s nothing wrong with reminding him just how awesome you are.

Bobbi let out a weak laugh.

“You are, you know.” Daisy tossed a marshmallow of her own. “Hunter’s the idiot for not seeing it.”

“Thanks,” she said softly.

“You’re welcome,” Daisy said, her smile blossoming again. “Now, let’s make a shitload of cookies for the wedding favors.”

“Oh god,” Bobbi groaned. “How many do we need?”

“Two hundred, just to be safe,” Daisy said. “I hope you’re ready to ice your ass off.”

“Whose idea was this?” Bobbi asked, picking up a piping bag. From the noises in the kitchen, it sounded like the first batch was heading their way.

“Whose do you think?” Daisy grinned.

“That’s it, we’re inviting Fitz to a nice dinner as a thank you after this is over.”

“And then we’re all mysteriously busy that night except Jemma?”

“Exactly.” Bobbi nodded decisively.

Piper pushed through the kitchen door, a rack of cookies in her hands. “You made it!” she said, smiling at Bobbi. “Just in time. Please remind Jemma all the snowflakes don’t actually have to be different.”

“They do if they’re supposed to be scientifically accurate,” Jemma retorted, coming out behind her with more cookies.

“I think they’re mostly supposed to be delicious,” Daisy said.

“We can individualize them with icing,” Fitz said, leaning over Jemma to inspect the cookies. “No two alike that way.”

“They smell great,” Bobbi said, inhaling. Her stomach grumbled. “Sorry,” she said sheepishly. “I didn’t have time for breakfast.”

Jemma lifted her eyebrows and Daisy hid a grin behind her hand.

“Who wants something from Elena’s?” Piper asked, setting the cookies on the table. “My treat.”

“Are you trying to get out of decorating?” Daisy asked, gesturing with a piping bag.

“Yep,” Piper said cheerfully. “But I promise to make up for it with lattes.”

“Sold,” Daisy said.

“Make that two,” Bobbi said. “And one of her breakfast burritos.”

“Me three,” Jemma said. “Fitz?”

Fitz’s eyes snapped up from Jemma’s tray of cookies, or possibly a little higher up, not that Jemma seemed to mind. “Uh, sure?”

“Awesome,” Piper said. “Back in a bit.”

“Hey,” Daisy said as she carefully piped a line of icing across a cookie. “What time is the florist appointment again?”

“Three,” Bobbi said absently, making a face at the jar of glitter in front of her. At the other end of the table, Fitz and Jemma’s heads were bent close as they mapped out their plan for the slew of cookies in front of them.

“I might be a little late. Grant made us an appointment he forgot to tell me about,” Daisy said, her tongue caught between her teeth. “At the bank. It shouldn’t take long.”

“Everything okay?” Bobbi asked, giving Daisy her full attention.

“Of course,” Daisy smiled. “We’re just opening a joint account. Since he’s moving into my place, we figured it was the easiest way to split the bills and stuff.”

“Before the wedding?” Bobbi asked, frowning.

“Why not, right?”

“Right,” Bobbi said, dredging up a smile and glancing over at Jemma, who didn’t look perturbed in the slightest. “Why not.” For a second, she wished Hunter was there, but she’d have to settle for filling him in later.

“Plus, he volunteered to pick up the dresses, so we can cross that off the list.”

Bobbi froze, icing dropping haphazardly onto her snowflakes. “Grant’s getting the dresses?” she asked. His odd conversation with Kara poked at her conscience. She needed to talk to Hunter about that, too.

“Yep. And he promised not to peek at mine, because half the magic is seeing it on me.” Daisy snuck a look at Fitz, who was clearly preoccupied, before squirting some icing on her finger and sticking it in her mouth. “Isn’t that sweet?”

“Super,” Bobbi muttered, scraping off her icing mishap before it hardened. Daisy’s face fell, and Bobbi forced some cheer into her voice. “That’s really nice, tell him thanks.”

“I will,” Daisy said, placated. “Now let’s make these sparkle.”

#

“Twice in one week,” Mack said, grinning as Bobbi swung through the front door of _Mackenzie’s_. “This is a nice surprise.”

“Hello, official wedding caterer,” Bobbi said, giving him a hug. “Did I thank you enough for filling in yet?”

“It’ll be fun,” Mack said, waving her away. “We would have been closed, anyway, and according to Hope, this is now _literally_ the best Christmas ever.”

Bobbi laughed. “Even better than getting a puppy?”

“Don’t put any ideas in her head,” he chuckled. “Hunter’s over by the bar.” He lowered his voice. “And just so you know, I’ve been saying since we opened he should tell you he’s moving back, I think he just didn’t know where to begin.”

“He’s…” Bobbi’s stomach dropped to her shoes and Mack’s eyes widened.

“Uh, he did tell you, didn’t he?” 

“Of course,” Bobbi managed. Mack didn’t look convinced. “I’ll just…go now.” She headed for the bar, numb, and tried to process what Mack had said. Hunter wasn’t just dropping in to see Izzy, he was moving back, moving _home_ , and he hadn’t said a word.

“There you are,” Hunter said, giving her a dimple-flashing smile. He stood up from the barstool he’d been perched on. “Hungry?” He leaned in to kiss her and she turned her head so his lips grazed her cheek instead.

“Not really,” she said, her tangle of emotions like a lead weight inside her. 

A crease appeared between Hunter’s brows and he gestured at a booth. “Alright. Beer?”

“Can we just talk about what you found today?” she said, sitting stiffly on the edge of the bench.

“Bob,” Hunter said, sliding into the booth across from her. “What’s going on?” 

“Nothing.” At least, nothing she wanted to talk about where people might overhear what a fool she’d been. Again.

He rolled his eyes. “Even if I wasn’t a P.I. I’d know that’s bollocks, Barbara.”

“Water,” Daniel said, setting a glass in front of her with a slice of lemon decoratively perched on the side. “Can I get you something else?”

“Gin and tonic,” Bobbi said. “Thank you.”

“She likes Bombay,” Hunter said, not taking his eyes off her.

“Sure,” Daniel said, disappearing as quietly as he’d appeared.

“Did you find anything on Grant?” she asked, her tone flat.

Hunter pressed his lips together, looking annoyed. “No,” he finally said.

“His family?” she asked.

He sipped his beer. “A little.”

“And?”

“You first,” Hunter said, leaning forward. “When I left this morning, things were fine. Better than fine! What happened?”

Bobbi averted her eyes and spent a minute perusing the various liquor bottles lined up behind the bar, tapping her fingers on the high-gloss tabletop. “It was one night, Hunter. It doesn’t change anything.”

“It doesn’t…of course it changes things!”

“Really?” she said, turning to meet his gaze. “Because finding out you were moving back from someone else sure feels like the same old Hunter to me.”

He blanched and squeezed his eyes shut before opening them again. “Fuck,” he grumbled. “Mack.”

“Don’t blame him for this,” she hissed. “At least now I know exactly where I stand with you. I hope you got what you needed at the party because that’s the last one I’m ever helping you crash.”

“Bob, please,” he said, reaching for her hands. She pulled them into her lap and glared. “I wanted to tell you, there just hasn’t been a good time and-”

“The first night we were here,” she spat. “The drive out to the party; when I saw you at Mel’s; hell, even this morning. All good times, Hunter, pick one!”

“I’m trying to do things right this time!” he nearly shouted. 

Daniel began to shake her cocktail with more vigor than strictly necessary, the noise of the ice not quite loud enough to cover up Hunter’s outburst but still nice and distracting.

“Do what things right?” Bobbi asked.

“This!” he said, gesturing between them. “You and me, Bob.” He sighed. “I just wanted to start off on the right foot.”

“By lying to me?”

“I wasn’t…” Hunter groaned. “I finally got everything settled and came out here but then the wedding popped up and this whole business with the Wards and, well, it just hasn’t been ideal.”

Daniel silently slid a highball glass in front of her and she gave him a grateful smile. “That’s life, Hunter,” she said. “Nothing’s ideal. Let alone something involving the two of us.”

The corner of his mouth ticked up slightly. “I remember several very ideal things from last night. And this morning.” 

Her face heated, and she took a sip of her drink. “Your turn,” she said lightly. The implications of him being back for good weren’t something she was ready to contemplate just yet.

Hunter shook his head but didn’t argue. “Daddy dearest certainly used to have a lot of money, but they’re underwater on that monstrosity we were at last night, and Grant’s finance job seems to mostly consist of finding new ways to borrow money so they can pay off old loans.”

“So, it’s a house of cards built on quicksand.”

“Pretty much.” Hunter sipped his beer. “But aside from a bloody awful credit score, I didn’t see any red flags.

“That’s not good,” Bobbi said. “Especially if Daisy doesn’t know.”

“It’s not earth-shattering, either. Plenty of people have terrible credit.”

“Okay, but they opened a joint bank account today, and then, get this, Grant volunteered to go pick up the dresses!” 

“For his own wedding? The horror,” he said dryly.

“He could be using it as an excuse to visit Kara,” Bobbi said impatiently.

Hunter tilted his head, eyeing her. “I’ve got Ward’s calendar syncing to my phone, and I thought I’d tail him for a couple of days just in case I missed something. We could do the same for Grant if it’ll make you feel better.”

“It’s not for me,” she protested.

“It’s for Daisy, I know,” he said, eyes softening. “Anyone ever tell you how damned stubborn you are when you decide you’re right about something?”

“Not for a while,” she said, fighting a smile. 

“Well then,” he said, reaching across the table. This time she let him link their fingers together. “It’s a good thing I’m here.”


	6. Better watch out

The doorbell rang as Bobbi stuffed her feet into her boots, and she opened the door with a scowl.

“6 am?” she said, grabbing a scarf. “Really?”

“Like you never get up this early for school.” Hunter scoffed.

“I’m on vacation!” Bobbi stepped onto the stoop and shivered, fumbling with her house keys. The streetlights were still on, snowflakes lazily drifting through their orange glow, and a white utility van was parked at the curb with its engine running. 

“How about if I make it worth your while?” he asked.

She narrowed her eyes at him.

“Get your mind out of the gutter, woman.” He offered a gloved hand, and after one last suspicious look, she took it, carefully navigating down the icy path to the street.

“You used to hate getting up early.”

“Still do.” Hunter grinned. “I just learned to find the best coffee when I have to be up at dawn.”

He opened the passenger side door and the scent of coffee and spice drifted out. “Elena’s?” she asked, climbing into the van.

“According to Mack, the only place for coffee.”

“He’s so right,” Bobbi said fervently, plucking a to-go cup out of the holder. It had her name on it, and she inhaled the steam, smiling. A vanilla latte, one of her favorite Elena specials. Hunter had done his homework.

“And,” he said, settling behind the wheel, “Breakfast.” He held up a paper bag with a shorthand scribbled across the side Bobbi knew well.

“Burritos!” she gasped.

“Said I’d make it worth your while,” he said, sounding smug.

“Fine, maybe this isn’t so bad.” She settled back against her seat and unwinding her scarf. The heater was on full blast and the falling snow was melting almost as soon as it hit the windshield. 

“Remember you said that, later.”

Hunter put the van in gear and crept away from the curb, navigating the quiet streets of her neighborhood. A few houses had their Christmas lights on, the twinkling colors dispelling the gloom. It was beautiful, in a soft, ethereal way. People often laughed about how summer must her favorite time of year because school was out, but if she had to choose, winter would probably win. She loved cozy blankets and warm fires and hot drinks, the smell of frost in the air, and the crisp crunch of fresh snow underfoot.

She’d met Hunter in the winter, a late transfer halfway through the school year, and her memories of those first few months were a blur of cold hands and warm mouths and searching the backseat of her car for lost gloves and hats and the occasional bra.

Bobbi turned to peer over her shoulder, but the rear of the van was mostly empty, aside from a couple of boxes. She probably shouldn’t be disappointed considering all she’d agreed to was a stakeout.

“Looking for something?” Hunter asked, his lips twitching up in a smile.

“Shouldn’t there be some fancy tracking equipment or something back there?”

“It’s a rental, and I’m not the FBI.”

“Oh,” Bobbi said, slouching in her seat. “So we’re really just watching them?”

“With our own two eyes,” Hunter confirmed. “I told you it’s not very exciting.”

Bobbi yawned and took a sip of her coffee. “Beats individually wrapping a million cookies.”

“Should’ve known there was an ulterior motive when you agreed to come along.”

He turned onto the street that led to the Wards’ neighborhood, and slowed, carefully maneuvering the van onto the shoulder. He pulled off his gloves and reached back, rifling through one of the boxes before coming up with a giant magnet that had ‘Williams, Inc.’ printed on it in bold letters.

“What-” Bobbi said as he opened the door. A few snowflakes made their way into the van, and she heard him slap the magnet on the side panel before sliding back into his seat. She let out a quiet laugh. “That’s why you’re driving a van.”

“Cliché, I know, but makes for good cover,” Hunter said, turning off the engine and picking up his coffee. “And now we wait.”

“When’s Mr. Ward’s first appointment?” Bobbi asked, watching snow blow across the road.

“9:30,” Hunter said.

Bobbi’s jaw dropped. “That’s like three hours from now!”

“Not so bad, remember?” he said, sipping his coffee. “Besides, who knows what he doesn’t have on his calendar.”

“What about Grant?” she asked.

“A reminder to pick up the dresses sometime today.”

“Let’s hope he means right when they open,” she grumbled. The interior of the van was still warm, but she had no doubt that would change over the next several hours.

“That would be ten o’clock,” he said.

“You just know everything, don’t you?”

“Kind of my job,” he chuckled.

Bobbi shot him a half-hearted glare, suppressing a smile, and they sat in companionable silence for a few minutes, drinking coffee and watching the sky gradually lighten.

“This would have been a good time,” Hunter said quietly.

She glanced over, taking in his familiar profile. The straight line of his nose, the angle of his jaw, the long sweep of his eyelashes. It was both strange and comforting to see him there beside her, a ghost from the past made flesh.

“I’m not sure there ever would have been a great time,” she admitted.

His shoulders slumped. “I know I messed up, Bob, but-”

“I mean, I probably would have freaked out no matter what,” she interrupted. Staring out at the icy blacktop, she took a breath. “I didn’t think you’d ever want to come back here.”

“Neither did I, when I left,” he said. “Hard to face one of the biggest mistakes of your life.”

Bobbi stiffened, setting her coffee aside. “Maybe this was a bad idea.”

“Hang on,” Hunter said, reaching out to grasp her hand. “I don’t mean you, Bob.”

“Then maybe you should elaborate,” she said stiffly. Pulling her hand away, she crossed her arms. 

“I’m trying!” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Can you just give me a minute?”

Bobbi clenched her jaw. “Fine.”

He sighed. “Giving up, Bob, that’s what I meant. Walking away was the mistake.”

“Then why did you?” she asked, her voice smaller than she meant it to be.

He blew out a breath and crossed his arms over the top of the steering wheel. “I don’t know,” he said, watching the empty road. “I just…you had everything mapped out, where you were going, what you wanted, and I couldn’t see where I was supposed to fit. You had everything ahead of you, and I had nothing. It was stupid, asking you to choose between that and me the way I did, but I just wanted to be…to be wanted, I guess.”

“That’s why you asked me to defer acceptance?” she asked, old hurts surfacing and half-healed wounds tearing open. “I chose you, Hunter, I chose you every day.”

“I know.”

“You knew how much getting into that program meant to me.”

“I did,” he said, “And I knew you’d make an amazing teacher, and I knew you’d be happy. You didn’t need me.”

“So…” She sucked in a breath and pushed away the need to defend a decision she’d made years ago. “You left because you thought I didn’t need you.”

“I left because you never asked me to stay.”

Her heart twisted in her chest. “That’s not fair,” she whispered.

“No, it’s not.” He shook his head. “And I’m sorry.”

The snow had picked up, swirling out of the grey sky and landing in the road for a moment before blowing away. 

“I’m sorry too,” she said.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him glance over in surprise. “Nothing for you to be sorry for.”

She lifted a shoulder. “I’m still sorry but I couldn’t ask you to stay in a place I thought made you miserable.”

“I was the one making myself miserable. I did mean to come back, once I’d pulled my head out of my arse and realized what I’d done.”

“Why didn’t you?”

Hunter exhaled loudly, momentarily fogging up the windshield. “I couldn’t figure out, I don’t know-”

“The right time?”

“Something like that,” he said, huffing out a wry laugh. His fingers tentatively stroked the back of her hand, and she turned her palm up, letting him link their fingers together.

“What if I asked you now?” Bobbi said, her stomach fluttering nervously. A car puttered past, its engine whining and a little yellow rotating light attached to the roof. 

“Newspaper delivery,” Hunter murmured, watching it go by. “Asked me what?”

“Asked you to stay,” she said quietly.

His grip on her hand tightened and he turned back to her. “Bob, you don’t have to-”

“But if I did,” she cut in. “What would you say?”

He grabbed the lapel of her jacket and yanked her across the space separating them, kissing her breathless. She groaned as he thrust his tongue into her mouth, tasting coffee and mint, and grasped the scarf wrapped around his neck, once again missing the stupid backseat of her old car.

“I’d say,” he rasped in her ear. “I’d love nothing more.” He pulled back, eyes bright and chest heaving, then traced her lower lip with his thumb. She drew it into her mouth, nipping the tip. “Fuck,” he hissed, shifting in his seat.

She sucked on it a moment longer before letting it go with a smile. “I think I like stakeouts.”

“This is not how they usually go,” he growled, tugging her in for another kiss.

Bobbi’s hip jammed into the center console and she reached out blindly, trying to feel her way across without removing her mouth from Hunter’s. He twisted a hand in her hair and she moaned, impatiently wiggling partway out of her seat. Her arm connected with something that moved, and she hastily pulled back just in time to see a coffee cup tipping over.

“Shit!” She grabbed for it, but it was too late. It hit the floorboards, top popping off, and a trickle of coffee pooled next to Hunter’s feet. “Sorry.”

“Hardly any left, anyway,” he said, pulling her close again.

“It smells like Christmas in here,” she murmured as he kissed the shell of her ear. “Did you have a peppermint mocha?”

He paused mid-kiss. “Maybe.”

The sound of another engine, this one deeper and quieter, separated them, and Hunter turned to look out the window with Bobbi peering over his shoulder as a black sedan went past.

Grant was behind the wheel. “Hunter,” she said urgently.

“I saw,” he sighed, reaching for the ignition. “Add bloody terrible timing to his list of faults.”

#

“This might be worse than sitting on the side of the road for three hours,” Bobbi grumbled as Hunter parked the van across the street from Grant’s latest destination. So far, he’d stopped for coffee (not at Elena’s, which was another black mark in Bobbi’s book), stopped by his office, and visited an ATM where he did not look around furtively as though he were emptying the accounts before ending up at the flower shop.

“We’re coming up on 9:30. Maybe his father’s more exciting,” Hunter said, adjusting the side mirror of the van presumably so he could see the front door of the florist.

“What’s the appointment?” Bobbi said, craning her neck to see what he was looking at.

“Lawyer.”

“Ugh, I’m going to need more coffee.”

“You know, you don’t have to suffer through all this with me. I’m happy to drop you back at home.”

“No,” Bobbi said quickly. “I don’t mind. It’s kind of nice to see what you do.”

“Company’s pretty nice, too,” Hunter said, giving her a smile that warmed her to her toes. “How about we swing by Elena’s for more coffee?”

“Yes, please,” Bobbi said, propping her chin on his shoulder to look at the mirror. “What’s he doing in there, anyway? Daisy and I confirmed everything yesterday.”

“Could be he wants to change something?”

“Doubtful,” Bobbi said. “He’s had absolutely no opinion on anything wedding-related this whole time, why would he start now?”

“Or he’s just getting flowers,” Hunter said as Grant emerged, a bouquet in his hand.

“Of course,” Bobbi sighed, leaning back in her seat. “Is it too much to ask that he do something extremely suspicious?”

“It’s still early, love,” Hunter said, watching Grant climb back in his car. “Maybe we’ll get lucky.” He started the van as Grant’s car rounded the corner and headed in the opposite direction.

“Time to tail his father?” she asked.

“Do you want coffee now or after?”

Bobbi frowned at the clock in the dash. “Elena’s will be packed, let’s go after so we don’t miss him.”

“Spoken like a true P.I.”

“Is this what you do most of the time?” she asked as they cruised through town.

“Tail people?” Hunter asked. “Not a lot. Depends on the case. Mostly it’s paperwork. Searching public records and that sort of thing.”

“Figuring people out,” she mused. “You were always good at that.”

“You think so?”

“I do,” she said. “You’re smart, Hunter, even if you pretended otherwise, and you were never an afterthought, not to me. I might have had plans, but you were always part of them.”

“I know,” he said quietly. 

“Good.” She stared at the houses sliding past. “Do you ever…”

“Ever what?” he asked, turning on to a familiar road.

She made a face at her reflection in the passenger side window. “Nothing.”

“Bob,” he said, his voice fond. “Out with it.”

“Do you ever think about where we might be right now if things had been different?”

“No.”

“Oh,” she said, tamping down the rest of her regret before it could escape.

He slid a hand down her arm, cupping her elbow until she turned to look at him again. “Rather think about where we could go from here.”

“Oh,” she repeated, warmth spreading through her limbs. They made another turn, and her brow furrowed. “Are we checking out Kara’s shop? I thought you said it doesn’t open until ten.”

“Lawyer’s across the street,” Hunter said. He drove past the collection of businesses and pulled over to the curb, parking behind a sedan with a dusting of snow.

Bobbi settled back in her seat, preparing for another long, boring wait when Hunter frowned at an approaching car. “Well, look what we have here.”

“Is that Grant?” Bobbi asked. The car pulled into the tiny parking lot of the wedding boutique and Grant emerged, answering her question. Carrying the unseasonal yellow bouquet, he knocked on the front door of the business, and a moment later, Kara answered. “I told you!” Bobbi hissed, poking Hunter’s shoulder.

“They don’t open for another half an hour,” Hunter said, squinting at the dark front windows. “Maybe it’s an apology for making her open early.”

“Oh please,” Bobbi scoffed. “No matter how broke they are, Grant’s family comes from money. They’re not the type to thank the help.”

“Run with a lot of wealthy crowds now, do you?” he asked, the corners of his mouth turning up.

“I’ve seen Downton Abbey!”

Grant reemerged, now weighed down by several garment bags, which he tossed into the backseat before climbing back in his car.

“Oh my god, be careful with those!” Bobbi gasped like Grant could hear her.

“Awfully fast for a quicky,” Hunter said. His phone chimed, and he patted the front of his jacket, searching for it. “Any other motives from British television shows you’d like to share?”

“Hush,” she said. “Jemma made me watch it.”

Pulling his phone out, Hunter shot her a grin. “Did she now?” He poked at his phone screen for a moment, his smile fading.

“Everything okay?”

“Actually,” he said. “You might be right. Do you know a place called The Fat Hen?”

“It’s one of the most expensive restaurants in town.”

He held up his phone. “Grant’s just made a reservation there for 7 o’clock tomorrow night.”

Bobbi narrowed her eyes. “That better be with Daisy, or I’m going to kill him.”


	7. Sleigh bells ring

“You made it!” Daisy smiled from the row of seats next to the check-in desk and held her hand out.

Sighing, Jemma dug into her purse and pulled out a dollar bill, slapping it into Daisy’s palm. “You couldn’t have been five minutes earlier?” she groused at Bobbi.

Piper handed Daisy another dollar. “Or later?”

“You were _betting_ on how late I’d be?”

“So,” Daisy said, tucking the dollars into her purse. “I guess you and Hunter are back on, huh?”

“Maybe,” Bobbi lifted a shoulder. “We’re still figuring things out.”

“Your color is excellent,” Jemma said, gesturing at her own face. “It looks like you’ve figured out a few things.”

Piper and Daisy burst out laughing while Bobbi rolled her eyes and fought a blush. “Enough about me, what’s on the schedule today, Miss I’m-About-To-Get-Married.”

“We’re getting the deluxe spa treatment, courtesy of one Mr. Phil Coulson,” Daisy said, hopping up from her seat. “I’ll let them know we’re all here.”

Bobbi took a seat next to Piper. “So, what, we’re signed up for massages and stuff?”

“I’m getting a pedicure, too,” Jemma said on the other side of Piper, “Daisy said we could pick what wanted.”

“Three massages,” Piper sighed. “Mostly for my feet.”

“That does sound nice,” Bobbi agreed. She looked down at her feet. “And maybe a pedicure.”

“For all those open-toed winter boots you’ll be wearing?” Piper smirked.

“Shut up.”

“Everyone’s here?” A smiling woman said from the desk. “Please come on back and we’ll discuss your options for today.”

Daisy led the way, and Bobbi waited for everyone else to go ahead of her, gnawing on her lower lip. While she didn’t have any proof that Grant was cheating on one of her best friends, it felt entirely wrong not to say something before the wedding. On the other hand, if she did say something and it turned out he _wasn’t_ , that would look even worse.

Hunter had promised they’d stake out the restaurant tonight, but until then, all she knew was that Grant had terrible credit, boring taste in bouquets, and no understanding of how easily satin creased. None of which were reasons to call off a wedding.

“Here you are,” their smiling host said, leading them to a small, private room with lounge chairs and tastefully patterned wallpaper. A fountain in the corner tinkled gently, and the lighting was soft and relaxing. She handed them a small menu detailing their choices and nodded at them. “I’ll be back in a few minutes to schedule your treatments.”

“This is so lovely,” Jemma sighed.

“Hot rocks,” Piper said, her eyes lighting up. “Sold.”

“What are you going to get,” Daisy asked, poking Bobbi with her elbow.

“Besides a massage?” Bobbi asked. “No idea. Any recommendations?”

“Mud bath sounds weird and cool,” Daisy mused. “Maybe I’ll try it. And a massage, obviously.”

“You’re already pretty relaxed for someone who’s getting married tomorrow,” Bobbi said.

Daisy flashed her a smile. “Thanks to you guys, we’re all ready.”

“So,” Bobbi said, trying to keep her tone casual. “Any plans for tonight?”

“Please tell me you didn’t get a stripper,” Daisy groaned.

“A stripper?” Jemma asked, her head jerking up. 

“What?” Bobbi said, startled. “No, there’s no strippers!”

“Too bad,” Piper muttered, peering at her menu.

“I told you I didn’t need a bachelorette party and I meant it.” Daisy patted her leg. “Nothing’s going to change after I get married, not really.”

Bobbi frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, you know Grant.” Daisy waved a hand. “He’s so busy, I’ll have plenty of time for girl’s nights and grading marathons and all the things we do now.”

Jemma’s brow furrowed. “That’s…good,” she said hesitantly. 

“If nothing is changing,” Piper said. “Then what’s the rush to get married?”

Bobbi blew out a breath, relieved she hadn’t had to ask.

Daisy glanced toward the door, then leaned forward. “Okay, you guys have to swear not to say anything to anyone.”

Piper and Jemma nodded their heads vigorously, and Bobbi sucked in a breath. “Of course we won’t,” she said, crossing her fingers. Except to Hunter.

“You know Grant’s a financial planner, right?” Daisy waited for them all to nod. “Well, his parents have been having some money problems, but they’re majorly in denial, and if we had a long engagement, they’d go crazy with planning and parties and things they seriously can’t afford. So, we decided if we got married right away, they wouldn’t have a chance to do any of that stuff.”

“Oh, Daisy,” Jemma breathed. “That’s very sweet.”

“Is this what you really want, though?” Bobbi asked. “I mean, in theory, you only get married once.”

“That’s what I told Grant when he suggested eloping,” Daisy laughed. “This is our compromise.”

“But you’re happy, right, Dais?” Piper said.

“I’m very happy,” Daisy said, settling back in her chair. “I’m sure we would have ended up here eventually, why not just skip to the good stuff?”

Piper exchanged glances with Bobbi. “Well,” Bobbi said cautiously. “I guess most people wait because they want to learn as much as they can about the person they’re marrying. Let the new relationship glow fade a little, maybe live with them and figure out of all your weird habits are compatible, that kind of thing.”

“You think I’m making a mistake,” Daisy said, slowly lowering the menu to her lap.

“No!” they all said a little too quickly.

Bobbi forced a smile onto her face. “We just love you, that’s all. I’m sure even if you’d been dating Grant for a million years, we’d want to make sure you were happy.”

Daisy nodded slowly, not looking entirely convinced. “Okay, but-” she cut her eyes to Bobbi, “it seems to me no matter how much time you spend with someone, this is kind of a leap of faith.” She shrugged. “I’m ready to leap.”

Her heart lurched in her chest, and Bobbi swallowed the rest of her objections. “Then we’re right behind you.” She’d had faith in Hunter like that, once upon a time, and no one could have persuaded her otherwise.

A relieved smile bloomed on Daisy’s face. “Thank you.”

“Oh, look, sugar scrubs!” Jemma said brightly. “Those sound lovely.”

“Hey, I know a guy who’d probably give you one of those for free,” Piper said, hiding her smile behind her menu.

Jemma’s face flushed. “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Daisy laughed, and the tension in the room drained away. Bobbi relaxed back in her seat, determined to enjoy this time with her friends. Whatever happened at the restaurant tonight was out of her hands. She just had to hope Grant was leaping with Daisy, and not taking her for a ride.

#

“Sorry, hi, I got back later than I thought I would,” Bobbi said in a rush, stepping back to let Hunter in the house.

“Hey.” He brushed a kiss across her lips, and she stood there for a moment, basking in his nearness. He was wearing jeans, which wasn’t really fancy restaurant attire, but anyone who noticed that over how well his white button-up fit had to be an idiot.

“I just need a few minutes.”

He tugged on the tie to her robe. “Take your time.”

She looped her arms around his neck. “I thought you wanted to be early?”

“Not this early,” he said. “Our reservation isn’t until six-thirty.”

Bobbi glanced at the clock. “It’s barely five.”

“Maybe I missed you,” he said, hands sliding under the front of her robe.

“You just saw me this morning.”

“That was ages ago,” he rumbled, leaning in for another kiss. He cupped her breast, the heat of his hand seeping through her bra, and a fire sparked to life low in her belly.

“I thought after all these years, you’d be used to it,” she blurted, then winced. She could kick herself for sounding so pathetic. “Sorry, I-”

“No.” He shook his head. “Don’t be sorry.” His hands glided down her side to settle on her waist, his touch gentling. “I missed you then, too.”

She leaned back, meeting his eyes. “Did you?”

“Of course, love,” he said. “Only, I didn’t think when I saw you again, I might get to do this-” He kissed her, softly as first, and then more demanding, his tongue sweeping through her mouth. She clutched the front of his jacket, her head tipping back as he nibbled his way down her throat. “Or this,” he murmured. He cupped her ass, pulling her close, working his way down toward her cleavage, and she pushed the jacket off his shoulders, relieved she hadn’t spoiled the mood.

“I can think of a few other things I’m willing to let you do,” she gasped.

He inhaled, his nose tucked against the crook of her neck, and steered her toward the bedroom. “Can think of a few things myself,” he murmured. “You smell delicious.”

“I got a peppermint sugar scrub,” Bobbi said, smug. “I thought you might like it.”

“Are you making fun of my coffee choices?” he asked, nipping at the thin skin of her throat.

“Never,” she laughed, successfully divesting him of his jacket. It fell to the floor in the hall and they left if there, stumbling into her room. “You’re going to make us late,” she gasped, fumbling with the buttons of his shirt.

“You think so?” he said, sounding pleased.

She tumbled back onto the bed, and mock-glared at him, tossing her hair out of her face. “You’ve made me late to everything this week.”

“How awful.” He grinned, crawling up over her. She heard his shoes thump to the floor, and then he kissed her again, pinning her to the mattress with his weight. She arched up under him and successfully undid half his buttons before he pulled away again. “Let me make it up to you.”

“How are you planning to—oh,” she gasped, lifting her hips as he moved off the bed, tugging her underwear down with him.

He freed one leg, then the other, smirking up at her from the foot of the bed, before bending to kiss the inside of her thigh.

“Lance,” she exhaled, clutching the blankets under her in anticipation. He slipped a hand under her knee and draped it over his shoulder before burying his face at the juncture of her thighs, his tongue seeking out her entrance. She let out a breathless squeak that she would deny later as he laved her bare pussy, teasing her, and she tried very hard not to wrap her legs around his head. “Please.”

He hummed against her skin and she closed her eyes, overwhelmed, as he slid a finger inside her. His tongue found her clit and her breath hitched as she fought to keep her hips still. There were very few things they hadn’t experimented with when they were younger, but the faint memories of what had been fled, replaced by the desperate need of the here and now.

She twisted the blankets in her fists, her hips bucking up, and her breath coming in short pants. He slid a second finger inside her, leisurely exploring with his mouth and she gave up trying to be still. She moved in time with his hand, seeking more friction, but he pinned her hips with one hand and kept up his slow, steady, movements.

His fingers disappeared and a whine escaped her lips. Sliding a hand into his hair, she tugged the short strands. “Please,” she said again. He chuckled, the sound muffled, and then thrust his tongue inside her. She bowed up off the bed, gasping, pleasure zinging through her overheated body, and lost herself in the sensation.

An orgasm slowly built, pooling low in her belly, and her fingers tightened in his hair just as she tipped over the edge, all the breath leaving her lungs.

It took another moment to realize how tightly she clutched him, and she released him with a sigh, her arms falling bonelessly to the bed. “Wow,” she said to the ceiling. He pressed a kiss to one thigh, then the other, his stubble a delicious scrape against her sensitive skin.

The sound of a zipper penetrated her consciousness, and she lifted her head in time to see him stepping out of his jeans. “Christ, you’re beautiful,” he rasped, climbing back onto the bed.

She tugged him down for a kiss, tasting herself on his tongue, and wrapped one hand around his erect cock. “Please,” she murmured.

“Thought you didn’t want to be late?” he asked, his smile wide enough to show off his dimples.

“Don’t care.” She wrapped a leg around his hip and pulled him closer. “Want you more.”

He positioned himself at her entrance and slowly pushed inside, his eyes never leaving hers. “I’m yours.”

#

“Hurry,” Bobbi urged, shivering as a blast of cold air hit her face.

“You’re the one who said we could be late,” Hunter laughed, pressing the button to lock her car. “Watch for ice.” He wrapped an arm around her waist and tucked her up next to him.

“Yes, late, not miss them completely,” Bobbi said, looking around the parking lot. “I don’t see his car.”

“It’s not quite seven,” Hunter said. “I think we beat him.”

“Thank goodness,” she said, slumping against him.

He pulled the door of the restaurant open and ushered her into the warm interior. The hostess gave them a practiced smile and somehow, with a minimum of fuss despite being almost a half-hour late, Bobbi found herself sliding into a corner booth across from Hunter. The table was lit with flickering candles, and they had a great view of the dining room. The smells coming from the kitchen made her stomach rumble.

“Just in time,” Hunter murmured, looking at something over her shoulder.

She spun around, catching sight of Grant. The dark-haired woman next to him had her back to Bobbi, but one thing she knew for sure.

It wasn’t Daisy.

The hostess gestured to the dining room and Grant followed after, his arm linked with his date’s, whose face she could finally see.

Kara.

Bobbi’s hunger morphed to nausea, and she clenched her jaw. She knew it. “That bastard,” she muttered, starting to stand.

“Wait.” Hunter grabbed her hand and she looked over, startled.

“What are you doing?”

“We don’t know what this is yet,” he said, his voice low.

“Are you kidding me?” she hissed, leaning over the table. “It’s exactly what it looks like!”

“It looks like two people having dinner, Bob, that’s it.”

“It looks like my friend’s fiancé having dinner with another woman the night before his wedding,” she exclaimed.

The people at the next table turned to look at them curiously, and Hunter gave them a tense smile until they looked away again. “Keep your voice down.”

“Why are you pretending this doesn’t mean anything?” she said.

“Because right now, it doesn’t,” Hunter said. “There’s no proof.”

“What, are we supposed to wait until they fuck on the table?” she asked sarcastically. “Would that be good enough for you or would you still think I’m overreacting?”

Hunter let out a huff of frustration. “That’s not what I mean. I just-”

“Just what, love coming up with excuses?” She craned her neck so she could see Grant and Kara. The waiter was showing them a bottle of wine and she stood up, hurt and anger warring within her. “Sometimes, a leap of faith just gets you burned.”

“What?”

Bobbi shook her head. “Nothing. I’m not going to sit here while he hurts someone I care about.”

“So, you’re going to march over there and call him scum?” 

“Maybe.” She turned on her heel and made her way through the scattered tables, Hunter cursing under his breath behind her.

“Grant,” she said, planting herself beside his table and glaring.

“Bobbi?” Grant said in surprise, and then, like a switch flipping, he was all politeness. “I didn’t see you when we came in.”

“I could tell,” she said, switching her glare to Kara.

The woman had the audacity to smile. “Hello. Daisy’s friend, right?”

“Yes,” Bobbi said. “ _Daisy_ , as in Grant’s fiancée.”

“I recall,” Kara said, her smile faltering slightly. “Is something wrong?”

Bobbi gaped at her. “Are you serious?”

“Bob,” Hunter said, grasping her arm.

“Is Daisy alright?” Grant asked, his brow furrowing. “We can reschedule if something’s come up.”

“Reschedule?” Bobbi repeated in disbelief. “Your affair?”

To her surprise, Grant laughed. “We’re having a business meeting,” he said, the corner of his lips drawing up in a smile too much like his father’s to be trustworthy. “I wouldn’t have planned it for tonight, ideally, but it’s an emergency.”

“A cozy restaurant dinner kind of emergency?” she said. “Are you kidding me?”

Something dark passed behind Grant’s eyes. “It’s sensitive. So if you don’t mind?” He gestured at the dining room, where most of the people had given up pretending not to watch.

“Bob,” Hunter said warningly. His hand settled on the small of her back. “Sorry. Enjoy your dinner.”

The world tilted under her feet, and Bobbi spun around, lifting her chin. Let everyone stare. She wasn’t the one in the wrong here, she was sure of it, no matter what everyone else thought.

Even if Hunter didn’t believe her.

She headed for the front door of the restaurant, brushing away his hand. “I have to go,” she said, stepping out into the cold and shivering.

“Let me drive you home,” Hunter said, draping her jacket over her shoulders. “Please.”

“I have to go,” she repeated, numb inside and out.

He held her car keys out wordlessly but didn’t let go when she grasped them. “Hey,” he said softly, his warm fingers caressing her cheek. “You’ll be at Mack’s in the morning, right?”

She swallowed heavily, then nodded. The wedding was still on, and apparently, there was nothing she could do about it.

“Good.” He dropped his hand, stepping back. “I’ll see you there. And Bob?” He waited until she met his eyes. “Trust me.”

God, she wanted to.


	8. Winter wonderland

The sun was shining, the air was brisk, and last night’s snowfall lay pristine over the entire town. Daisy’s wedding pictures were going to turn out perfectly. Too bad Bobbi was all but certain that the groom was a lying, cheating jerk who was bound to break her friend’s heart.

Bobbi took a deep breath, plastered on a smile, and rang the doorbell. Footsteps sounded inside the house and Mel opened the door, looking frazzled.

“Coffee?” Bobbi said, lifting up the tray of drinks.

“You’re a lifesaver,” Mel said gratefully.

Stepping into the house, Bobbi handed over the coffees and shed her coat and boots before following Mel into the kitchen. Something thumped overhead and Bobbi glanced up at the ceiling. “Remodeling?” she asked, draping her garment bag over a chair before grabbing the cup with her name on it.

“Phil has apparently decided that staying out of the way involves cleaning out his office.”

“Mel?” Phil called from upstairs. “Do we have any more boxes?”

Mel massaged one temple. “Try the attic!”

“I did,” Phil said, his tread heavy on the stairs. He poked his head in the kitchen a moment later and smiled. “Hi, Bobbi. I found a couple of books you might like. Jemma too. Do you know if she’s got a copy of _The_ _Poisoner’s Handbook_? I ended up with three, somehow.”

“I don’t know, sorry,” Bobbi said.

“I’ll ask when she gets here,” he said, rubbing his hands together. “It’s right up her alley.”

“Try the garage,” Mel said. “I think I saw some boxes in there.” 

“Right!” Phil said cheerfully. “Thanks, hon.” He kissed her cheek as he passed, and Mel’s scowl lightened. Bobbi hid a smile behind her to-go cup. Maybe she’d be eager to leap like Daisy, too, if she’d grown up around the kind of marriage Phil and Mel had. An undercurrent of affection wound through every interaction, even their disagreements.

“Mom! I just remembered—oh, hey, Bobbi!” Daisy exclaimed, coming into the kitchen. Her eyes lit up. “Elena’s!”

“Okay, wow, I should have brought you decaf,” Bobbi laughed.

“Sacrilege,” Daisy gasped.

“What did you remember?” Mel asked.

“Oh, I need something old,” Daisy said.

“I’ve got something,” Mel said with a gentle smile. “It covers old, blue, and borrowed, don’t worry.”

“Thanks,” Daisy said, relieved. “Grant told me he’d get something from his mom, but I think he forgot.”

A wrinkle appeared between Mel’s eyebrows. “He’s been busy, hasn’t he?”

“He has been, but it’s fine. I’m sure whatever you have is more my taste anyway.” Daisy flashed a smile.

“I saw Grant last night,” Bobbi blurted out. “At the Fat Hen.”

Mel and Daisy both turned to her and Bobbi bit her lip. Shit.

“Oh, yeah.” Daisy leaned over the kitchen island. “How was your hot date?” She smirked.

“I…what?” Bobbi asked, confused.

“Grant mentioned he saw you and Hunter,” Daisy said easily.

“He took you out for dinner last night?” Mel asked. “That’s sweet.”

“Oh, no, it was some business thing.” Daisy waved a hand and Mel’s furrow deepened.

“He told you?” Bobbi said. That was unexpected. “And everything’s…okay?”

“I’m just glad we got our dresses,” Daisy said. “Can you believe they’re foreclosing on Kara’s shop?”

“Not after what we paid,” Mel muttered into her coffee.

Daisy shot her mother an affectionate smile. “It was in the paper yesterday, I guess. Grant’s helping her out.”

“That’s nice?” Bobbi replied, hoping she sounded sincere. Maybe Grant had been telling the semi-truth last night, but between the conversation she’d overheard at the dress shop, the flowers, and the cozy dinner, it sure seemed like Kara was more than just a client.

Mel’s frown didn’t budge. “Yes, very.” She patted Daisy’s hand. “Come on, let me show you what I had in mind, sweetheart.”

“Great.” Daisy straightened up and headed for the stairs. Mel shared a concerned look with Bobbi, who forced a smile and lifted one shoulder.

No matter what happened, she’d be there for Daisy. She just had to hope she was wrong about Grant.

#

“You look fancy,” Mack said, locking the door of the restaurant behind Bobbi. The lights were mostly off, but the faint strains of a Christmas carol could be heard coming from the speakers overhead.

“Thank you,” she said, glad to be inside. The navy-blue satin dress she had on was pretty, but not particularly warm “Just making sure there’ve been no cataclysmic disasters.”

“Everything’s right on schedule,” Mack laughed. “I think Daniel is actually excited about wearing a bow tie.”

“Tell him thanks, too,” Bobbi said gratefully. “I know this was totally last second. If something happens, just call-”

“Everything’s under control.” Mack admonished, shooing her toward the bar as she slipped out of her coat. “Now please go talk to Hunter so he stops moping around like his dog died.”

“Not moping!” Hunter called from one of the booths. Paperwork was strewn across the table in front of him and his shirtsleeves were rolled up to his elbows. He frowned at the file in front of him, his brow furrowed and her fingers itched to smooth the lines away and see him smile.

“Hey,” Bobbi said, the knot of tension between her shoulders unraveling just a little.

Hunter looked up, his eyes slowly traveling from Bobbi’s cute but impractical heels to her updo, and let out a low whistle. “Hello, love.”

“Lance.” She’d barely made it halfway home last night before regretting that she’d turned down Hunter’s offer to come with her. Stupid as it was, she’d kind of gotten used to having him around. The ease with which he’d slipped back into her life should have scared her, but she had more important things to worry about right now. “Did you find anything?”

He stretched out a hand and she took it, letting him tug her down to sit on the bench beside him. “Think so. I’m waiting for an email.”

Bobbi linked their fingers together, leaning against his shoulder. “Sorry about last night.” 

“You’re worried about your friend,” he said. “Nothing to be sorry for.”

“I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”

He glanced over, his eyes softening. “Apology accepted.” He closed the distance between them and gave her a soft, lingering kiss. There was heat behind it, but the slow, long-simmering kind that warmed her down to her toes.

“So,” she said when he pulled away. “Did you find something on Grant’s dad?”

“Actually,” he said, releasing her hand and sliding a stack of papers toward her, “I took a look at Kara.”

She frowned at the top page, a notice of foreclosure on the dress shop. “This is what Grant was supposedly helping her with last night,” she said.

“You knew about this?”

“Daisy did, she told me this morning. I guess Grant told her we’d run into him.”

“Getting ahead of the story, smart man,” Hunter murmured. He flipped to the next page. “This is where it gets interesting. See here?” He tapped a signed copy of the building’s lease. “Apparently, the shop is one of the Ward family businesses.”

“What?” Bobbi peered at the lease. “We paid full price for these damn dresses!”

He smoothed the navy-blue satin down her thigh. “Worth every penny. Daisy didn’t know?”

“I’m the one who found it. All the other places couldn’t fit us in on such short notice.”

“I figured as much,” Hunter said. “Kara’s also gone back to using her maiden name.”

“Her…wait, you lost me.”

He silently pulled a sheet of paper out of the stack and put it on top—a wedding certificate for Kara Lynn Palmas and Grant Ward.

Bobbi’s jaw dropped. “They’re _married_?” She started to stand, but Hunter’s hand gripped her leg.

“Were,” he said. “For all we know they’re divorced now, that’s the email I’m waiting on.”

“I have to tell Daisy.”

“We will.” Hunter took her hand again. “I just wanted to make sure there weren’t any more surprises hiding in here.”

“What I don’t understand is why he picked Daisy?” she said. “Shouldn’t he be chasing after some rich heiress to prop up the family name or something?”

“You said they opened a joint bank account a couple of days ago, right?” he asked, checking his phone distractedly.

“Yep.” She glowered at the marriage certificate in front of her.

“Maybe they just need a fresh face with good credit for the loan paperwork.”

“That bastard,” she muttered.

“Or,” Hunter said, squeezing her hand. “He just loves her.”

Bobbi turned her glare on him. “Are you serious?”

“It is generally considered a solid reason to get married.”

“But then why the rush? Why hide his previous marriage? Why any of it?” she asked, exasperated.

He lifted her hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it. “That I don’t know. Maybe he was afraid she wouldn’t understand?”

“Do you have any ex-wives you’re not telling me about?” she asked suspiciously.

Hunter laughed. “No, Bob.”

“Good.” She slid the paperwork back toward him and he cleared his throat.

“But I do have a confession to make.”

Bobbi stiffened in her seat. “What’s that?” she asked, a thousand possibilities cascading through her mind. First and foremost was the dreaded announcement that he was leaving. Again. He’d decided coming back wasn’t worth it after all.

“I don’t usually make a habit of sharing who hired me, but I think in this case you should know. Especially since you’ve been doing half the legwork.”

“Who hired you?” Bobbi asked faintly, relief winding through her limbs.

Hunter’s free hand nervously drummed on the table. “Don’t get angry.”

“Why would I…oh my god, was it Mel?”

He snorted. “Close. It was Phil.”

“Phil?” she repeated in shock. “He likes Grant!”

“Well, apparently, he doesn’t like Grant’s father.”

“That makes two of us.”

“Mostly, though,” Hunter said, checking his phone again, “I think he just wanted an excuse to quiz me about my job.”

A surprised laugh escaped her throat, and Bobbi relaxed against his side. “Now that sounds like Phil.”

“Let’s get you to the church,” Hunter said, nudging her upright. “I’ve got a jacket and tie in the car.”

“Already declared yourself my plus one again, I see,” she said, sliding out of the booth.

“Now and for the foreseeable future.” He grinned, standing up beside her before winding his arms around her waist and drew her close. “If that’s alright with you.” He barely brushed his lips across hers and she shivered, clutching the front of his shirt until he kissed her again. Her fingers tugged the hair at the nape of his neck and he groaned, sucking on her lower lip and trailing kisses down her throat.

“Sounds perfect,” she gasped.

Hunter’s phone chimed, and he pulled it out of his pocket. “Got it.” She could feel his muscles tensing as he opened the email.

“What’s the verdict?”

“You were right,” he said grimly. “Grant’s still married.”

Bobbi set her jaw. “I’m going to kill him.”

Mack cleared his throat beside them. “Jemma just called,” he said. “Isn’t there somewhere you’re supposed to be?”

“Yes,” Hunter said. He stepped back and grabbed Bobbi’s jacket, holding it up for her. “We’ve got a wedding to stop.”

“Tell Daniel to get out the good tequila for the bride,” Bobbi said to Mack, pulling on her coat. “She’s going to need it.”

#

“There you are!” Jemma exclaimed. “Thank goodness. Daisy’s getting cold feet and I’m not sure any of us are helping. Come on, we’re back here.” She hurried away, not looking to see if Bobbi followed.

Bobbi reached out and snagged Hunter’s hand as he hesitated near the pews. “You sure?” he said. “I can wait out here.”

“I might need backup.”

They hurried after Jemma and ducked through a narrow doorway into a small, crowded room.

“Bobbi!” Daisy said, spinning around. Her white dress spun with her, soft and ethereal. It deserved to be worn for a much happier occasion than the one currently unfolding. “You get the whole road to love isn’t smooth thing, right? I mean, what with-” She gestured at Hunter. “Like, nobody’s perfect.”

“Ouch,” he said under his breath.

Bobbi gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Everything. Nothing. I don’t know,” Daisy said, sitting down heavily on a wooden chair.

Behind Daisy, Piper slumped against the wall, her bowtie askew and her tailored navy blue suit rumpled. She met Bobbi’s gaze and shrugged. “Grant forgot to get the wedding license.”

“One thing!” Daisy cried. “He was in charge of one, single thing and he forgot.” She groaned and dropped her head into her hands.

“You can take care of it after Christmas,” Jemma assured her. “It doesn’t make the ceremony any less meaningful. Right, Bobbi?” She looked up worriedly. 

Bobbi winced. “Dais, I really need to tell you something.”

Daisy lifted her head, eyes wide. “What? Oh my god, is Grant okay? Did something happen?”

“He’s fine!” Bobbi said quickly.

“For now,” Hunter muttered.

She elbowed him. “He, um, can’t really apply for a marriage license because he’salreadymarried,” she said in a rush.

The room fell eerily silent, and Bobbi held her breath as a rush of emotions flashed across Daisy’s face.

“ _What_?” Daisy said.

“He’s _married_?” Jemma squeaked.

Bobbi nodded.

Piper’s jaw dropped. “You’re kidding!”

“Afraid not,” Hunter drawled, pulling out his phone. He passed it to Daisy, whose face had gone unnaturally pale.

“Daisy?” Bobbi asked cautiously.

“He…” Daisy looked up, eyes narrowing, and handed Hunter back his phone. “Excuse me,” she said, standing and sweeping out of the room.

“Daisy!” Jemma said, rushing after her with everyone else close behind. They ended up at the back of the church, watching a very determined Daisy march down the aisle while the crowd looked on, half-standing, half-seated, and all very confused.

“Oh, this is going to be good,” Piper said, slipping off her jacket and draping it over a nearby pew. “I call dibs on punching him.”

“No one’s punching anyone,” Bobbi said just as Mel stood, intercepting her daughter. They had a quiet conversation she couldn’t hear, and Mel’s face turned stormy.

“You sure?” Hunter asked, sounding amused.

Grant, standing at the front of the room, was casting increasingly nervous looks at his parents and edging away from the altar.

“Grant!” Mel’s voice rang out, pitched to carry across crowded cafeterias and packed auditoriums. Everyone in the church automatically sat up a little straighter, and Bobbi covered her mouth with one hand to hide her smile.

He froze in his tracks, his shoulders hunched. “Yes, ma’am?”

“Would you care to explain why you neglected to inform any of us you’re already married?”

The entire audience gasped gratifyingly and Grant’s confidence seemed to flee entirely. “I…uh, it was an oversight? Daisy, let me explain,” he said desperately.

Phil stood up, his hand settling on the small of his wife’s back. “Walk away,” he said firmly. “Now.”

Grant’s mouth open and closed as his parents stood and hastily beat a retreat, leaving a murmuring crowd in their wake. Bobbi stepped aside to let them pass and Grant seemed to realize he had no other choice. His mouth pressed in a thin line, he headed up the aisle, accompanied by the curious stares of several dozen guests. His glare intensified as he neared Bobbi and Hunter, and she didn’t bother to hide her smile this time.

“Bye,” she said.

Hunter snorted quietly, and Grant’s jaw ticked, but he didn’t stop until he’d disappeared out the church doors.

The room exploded with noise. Buzzing voices overlapping as the poor priest tried to bring order.

“Thank you,” Daisy said, appearing in front of her and wrapping Bobbi up in a tight hug.

“Oh,” Bobbi said, surprised. She returned the hug with one arm, her other hand still hanging tight to Hunter’s. “Of course. I’m still sorry, though.”

“What do you want to do about…” Phil gestured at the church, adorned with poinsettias and ribbons. “Everything?”

“Oh no, I need to call Mack,” Bobbi gasped. “Don’t worry, I can cancel-”

“No,” Daisy said firmly, startling everyone.

“No?” Mel asked, her eyebrows lifting.

Daisy nodded once, decisively. “We‘re all here together, and that’s something to celebrate, isn’t it?”

“Sweetheart,” Mel said gently. “You don’t have to-”

“I want to,” Daisy said. She let out a pained laugh. “It’s not like Grant helped with any of this, anyway. We don’t need him.”

“Okay, well,” Mel said, sharing a look with Phil. “I suppose we could just skip to the reception?” 

“It does look pretty, though, doesn’t it?” Daisy said wistfully, turning to admire the church. She cast Bobbi a small smile. “Thanks for your help. You did an amazing job. Sorry it was all for nothing.”

“I’m happy to do it again, someday,” Bobbi said gently.

Hunter cleared his throat. “It is a shame,” he said, “all your hard work going to waste.”

“It’s not a big—what are you doing?” she hissed, alarmed, as Hunter slowly sank to one knee.

“Look,” he said, hanging fast to her hand as she tried in vain to tug him up. “This might be the worst possible timing, but as someone once pointed out, for some things, you can’t wait around for the perfect moment.”

Jemma appeared beside Daisy. “Alright, I think I’ve…oh my goodness is Hunter _proposing_?”

Daisy shushed her. “I think so!” she whispered.

Bobbi clamped her lips together to keep from bursting out into nervous laughter as Hunter shot them an exasperated look. “Anyway,” Hunter continued, “I’ve done a lot of stupid things in my life, but the one thing I did right was you.”

Piper coughed, but it didn’t quite cover her giggle.

“Hunter,” Bobbi murmured warningly.

A hint of a smile lifted his lips as he gazed up at her with so much emotion it took her breath away. “You make me want to be a better person, even from half a world away, but if you’re willing to take a chance, I’d rather stay right here, with you. I love you, Barbara Morse, always have, and always will. Would you marry me?”

Bobbi couldn’t seem to find her voice. “Now?” she finally managed to squeak.

He lifted a shoulder. “If you want. Doesn’t matter to me if it’s ten minutes or ten years from now, as long as you say yes.”

Behind him, Daisy and Jemma both nodded vigorously. 

“I-” She looked over at Mel, who smiled, her head nestled against Phil’s shoulder, then back down at Hunter’s hopeful expression. His soft whiskey-brown eyes didn’t stray from her face for even a moment. “Yes,” she said, never once doubting it was the right answer.

His grin was wide and beautiful, bringing out the dimples under his scruff, and he stood, pulling her close. “Yeah?” he asked like he wasn’t sure he heard her right.

“Yes,” she repeated, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I love you, too.”

He kissed her eagerly, their mouths meeting between smiles, and he let out a relieved laugh. “Oh, thank christ.”

“Here,” Daisy said, tapping Bobbi on the shoulder and handing over a brightly colored bouquet. “Let’s give the people what they came for.”

“Are you sure?” Bobbi asked, accepting the flowers.

“Positive,” Daisy said. “After all, who doesn’t love a happy ending?”


	9. 'Tis the damn season

“Well, my lovely wife,” Hunter said, steering Bobbi around the crowded dance floor. “This didn’t turn out so bad, did it?”

“Way better than expected, actually,” she said, smoothing a hand down his shirt. “If not exactly what I had planned.”

“Any regrets?” he murmured, spinning her away from where Jemma and Fitz were swaying in time to the music like a smitten roadblock.

Bobbi pretended to think it over until Hunter’s lower lip began to sneak out, and then she leaned in to kiss him, laughing. “None.” 

“Good, because you’re stuck with me.”

“No one I’d rather be stuck with,” she said. The song faded out and a new one began, but Hunter didn’t change their unhurried, gentle pace. His arms settled more firmly around her, and he kissed her again, his tongue seeking entrance to her mouth. She melted against him, tasting chocolate and mint, and smiled. “Did you sneak another piece of cake?”

“Can’t let Fitz’s hard work go to waste, either,” Hunter said. “Want me to get you a piece?”

A familiar laugh carried over the music and Bobbi peered over his shoulder toward the bar. Daisy was perched on a barstool, still wearing her wedding dress, laughing at whatever story Daniel was in the middle of. A brightly colored cocktail complete with an umbrella was in her hand, and a half-finished slice of cake sat in front of her.

Hunter spun them so he could get a look and smirked. “Looks like someone’s enjoying herself.”

“What do we know about Daniel?” she asked, peering back at them suspiciously. She still had a week of vacation, maybe she and Hunter could…

“He’s so clean he squeaks.”

“Oh, well, good,” Bobbi said, disappointed.

“Thought you’d be happy about that,” Hunter said, the corner of his mouth quirking upward.

“I am!” she insisted. “It’s just…I thought we could do another stakeout.”

“As a rule, most people aren’t eager to conduct stakeouts, Bob,” Hunter’s hands strayed down to stoke the satin covering her ass. “What with all the sitting and waiting and watching. Not that I’m opposed to the company.”

“Only one of us really needs to be watching,” she murmured. They were barely moving now, dancing all but forgotten.

“And what would the other one be doing?” he asked, his breath ghosting across her cheek. A shiver of anticipation ran down her spine.

“I can think of a few things.” She leaned in, kissing the shell of his ear. “Want a demonstration?”

He shuddered. “Yes,” he croaked.

“Meet me in the car in five,” she murmured. “And husband?”

Hunter hummed in acknowledgment, the sound soft and happy. “Yes, love?”

“Bring some cake.”

**Author's Note:**

> Plot rescued from A Christmas Wedding Planner which is a truly mindbogglingly bad movie so obviously, I've seen it (and yelled at it) more than once. It features an ex-boyfriend and snooping shenanigans so it's the perfect vehicle for Huntingbird Christmas fluff.  
> The original should only be watched for the confusing but delightful surprise of seeing Joey Fatone attempt to carry the whole movie despite being a side character, as he's the only one who can act. 
> 
> Anyway, here's to a happy holiday season! Thanks for reading. <3


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